


Stay

by King951



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Ending Options - 1 Happy & 1 Sad, Chapter 23 is smut and can easily be skipped, Exploration of BTS Time Spent Together, F/M, Featuring art by the incredible FrenchUnicorn and amazing Nomi, Mischief with Pitou, OTP Feels, Pouf Will Probably Cry, Sexual Themes, Violence, Youpi Doesn't Care, almost canon compliant, lots of fluff, merukomu, merumugi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 66,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25397707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/King951/pseuds/King951
Summary: Enjoy a novel about budding romance and heartbreaking tragedy.  This tale follows Komugi and Meruem as they interact in the days leading up to the palace invasion.  All major canon events are preserved, including the one that makes us all suffer and sob uncontrollably.Don't worry, though.You will have a choice of two endings.  One of these options leads to a new AU where our loved couple lives, and an exciting, new adventure begins.New chapters added frequently.Story features beautiful art by FrenchUnicorn and Nomi.(Smut may be skipped without sacrificing the flow of the overall narrative.  Smut is chapter 23.)
Relationships: Komugi & Meruem (Hunter X Hunter), Komugi/Meruem
Comments: 808
Kudos: 699
Collections: MeruKomu Madness





	1. Unforeseen Resolve

**Author's Note:**

> **Come see me on Twitter:** [@GungiKing951](https://twitter.com/GungiKing951)
> 
>  **Check out the comic I collaborated on with the amazing artist FrenchUnicorn:** [Puzzling Encounters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25762132)
> 
>  **Read a tale about 1920s human Meruem:** [Playing for Keeps](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26371462)
> 
>  **Are you 18+ and interested in MeruKomu erotica? Find it here:** [A Special Gift](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26281147)
> 
>  **Join the MeruKomu Madness Discord Server:** [Click Here](https://discord.com/invite/PPVe2WU)

Time seemed to slow down. At least, to Komugi it had. She sat there, her frail hand trembling before her forever unseeing eyes. Thick, warm liquid had splattered across her porcelain face and was now, like a heavy syrup, trickling down the curves of her soft cheeks and gasping mouth. She trembled as someone’s muffled cries echoed through her mind, her daze too dense to make out even a few syllables of whatever the man was bewailing. And what was this taste? The hot liquid stung her lips as a drop rolled into the hollow of her mouth, pooling against her tongue. Was this blood? It tasted like blood, but no, something seemed off. There was a sour flavor to it, faintly citrus.

“Wha – wha – what happened?” she managed to stammer out, her thoughts struggling to catch up with the scene unraveling around her.

A stern voice barked back “It’s your turn to play.”

Her brow furrowed as she remembered what he said before the spray of mystery liquid splashed against her skin. Let this be his “apology.” What had he done? Why is his guard in hysterics? 

“D-Did you…break your own arm?” She spoke before the theory clearly manifested within her terrified mind. Her breath then hitched as she heard the guard frantically beg permission to stop the bleeding. 

‘The Supreme Leader is bleeding? Because of me?’ The thoughts rang through her head as she half-heard the guard attempting to negotiate with the King. He pleaded for permission to summon another guard, named Neferpitou, and he was willing to die if the Supreme Leader did not ultimately concede to treatment. 

She cringed shamefully and silently pondered, ‘Is he about to die because of me? I’m sure his life is worth so much more than mine.’ 

“It’s your turn. Play.” The command seized her attention, and immediately, she found herself in perfect tune with her chaotic surroundings.

“No!” she defiantly shouted in reply. “I will not play…until your arm is better!” 

Abruptly, she felt the cold tip of a knife gently thrust against the delicate skin of her neck. She swallowed a sob and shook, feeling the weapon press more firmly against her trachea. Any sudden movement and her blood would flow.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

She steadied herself, her resolve swelling up in her chest like a balloon anxious to burst. “No, I refuse,” she boldly countered a second time. “If you would kill me…kill me in gungi!” Her lips tightened, waiting for the knife to plunge into her throat.

“Why you,” the King snarled back, his words dripping with barely harnessed rage. “Call Pitou!”

* * *

For nearly four hours, the only sounds were the rhythmic clacking of gungi pieces and each player’s declared moves. Komugi had refused to begin playing until she heard a woman’s canorous voice announce her own arrival and willingness to serve. 

She was not sure exactly what was transpiring, but Komugi was acutely aware that a certain Doctor Blythe had accompanied the guard and was now treating what must be the Supreme Leader’s severely wounded flesh. She stationed her archer atop the gameboard before firmly gripping her waifish forearm, imagining what strength it must take to crack your own bones in twain. He uttered no sounds of agony when he suffered the injury or even now. Aside from announcing positions on their shared 9x9 battlefield, the room was eerily soundless as the surgeon repaired his battered form. What kind of man silently endures such tremendous pain?

Upon completion of his treatment, the King broke the pattern he and his opponent had been sharing and calmly dismissed his guards. Komugi listened intently, all the while thinking it strange she only heard two sets of footsteps and not the expected three. The doctor must be unusually light on her feet. 

She kept her keen hearing tuned, half-expecting him to say something novel now that they were alone, but the Supreme Leader did not proceed as expected. After a pause that seemed unreasonably long, the familiar clack of a gungi piece and the announcement of his next move were all she heard. 

Komugi felt the corners of her lips curling upwards into a soft smile, and she felt equal parts relieved and happy that they would just continue the game. The Supreme Leader had threatened her life more than once now, but Komugi could tell that this man would eventually, with practice, become a challenging opponent. That fact alone made her content and more than eager to continue their strategic joust.

Another four hours passed, and still the only words they shared were of their respective plays. He had said there would be no breaks and his words held true. She had not dared to even ask to use the lavatory, fearful that the request would annoy him, and their games would cease. 

Furthermore, and despite the comfort of the plush pillow beneath her, Komugi’s legs had grown numb hours ago. She squirmed a bit, hoping to awaken some of the nerves. The familiar pins-and-needles agony of blood rushing back into her limbs would be a welcomed feeling after so long. Still, while her body may be growing wearier, her mind was still sharp and struggling little to foresee plays that her opponent would inevitably attempt. 

No, sleep would not checkmate the determined gungi master. After all, nothing could possibly be more essential than the honor of gungi with the Supreme Leader. When she earlier boasted of her ability to play for three days straight, she meant every proud word. 

A soft sound caught her attention. It was a mildly frustrated puff of air leaving the King’s lungs, realizing he had, yet again, been defeated. A rain of clicks and clacks filled the room as he dropped his remaining pieces onto the wooden game board, a long and heavy silence following.

Had she been able to see, Komugi would have been startled by the intense scowl the King was barreling against her. His mind had been distracted for their past two games, devoured by the thought that this woman truly harbored neither greed nor fear. Furthermore, she had moronically opposed him when he was the obviously superior being. Why hadn’t he just killed her right there on the spot? He dismissed it merely as a natural desire to delay her demise until he won. Then, upon his triumph, her life would deservingly be cut short.

“Tell me,” he began, his tone bitter and cold, “was there truly nothing you wanted upon besting me? Is gungi such an obsession that your obtuse mind can’t fathom desire for anything else?”

Komugi swallowed hard, uncomfortable in this powerful and direct man’s nearly suffocating energy. Biting her lower lip to keep it from quivering, she meekly shook out a reply. “I’m—I’m very lucky to have as much as I do given how much of a burden I can b—be. Being able to play gungi with Dear Leader is enough.”

Her answer did not satisfy the King, his gaze narrowing and fingers flexing into a firm fist. “I offered you _anything_. You care not for power or riches? Surely your sight would be a desire?”

“I’ve been blind since birth, Your Majesty, Sir. You said earlier you’d take the black pieces. I don’t really know what black or white even means. Just that they’re different.” She waited for a reply, but her adversary remained silent. She was suddenly aware of her own heartbeat drumming within her ears and a tight knot swelling within her throat. 

Swallowing, she continued, “I—I don’t know what anything _really_ looks like, but—but I get by fine without knowing. I don’t really miss my sight because I never could see. I guess…well, I guess it would be good to have so I don’t go breaking things and bothering others, but it would be a want to help everyone else tolerate me better is all. Everything I deserve, I have.” Her head hung low, thick brows furrowing as her lips pursed in a tight pout. “I’m not worthy of much.”

The King stilled, eyeing the pale blonde as his mind struggled to understand the girl’s meaning. ‘How is she so worthless and unworthy if I can’t outmaneuver her? I am the pinnacle of evolution _both_ physically and cognitively. Yet, this human, constantly and distastefully discharging snot from her obviously defective nose, continues to defeat me time and time again.’ The absence of a clear answer was maddening.

“Perhaps,” he explored through slightly clinched teeth, “a family who would not deem you worthless once you are ultimately defeated?” He narrowed his gaze, “And you _will_ be defeated in short.”

Her sightless eyes fell to the floor and she appeared ready to repeat a lie she has achingly memorized by heart. “My parents were unreasonably good in letting me live past being a baby. Until gungi I—I was nothing but a bother to all of them. I don’t blame them for not caring for me once I don’t have any way to help out. Death just makes sense. I won’t be worth more an—anyway.” She began to fidget with the fabric of her dress, her thin limbs trembling. 

A strange sensation swelled in the King’s throat as he listened to her speak. It was not disgust or anger or anything else he had grown familiar with in his admittedly short life. This feeling felt like it would choke him, and for some reason he found himself wanting to vehemently insist that she was, in fact, not inconsequential. How could she be? If she were insignificant, if she mattered so little, then what would that make _him_? He had, somehow, still failed to best the human in a ridiculous board game. Snarling, the King felt an urge to demand she rescind her claims of inferiority.

Instead, however, he found himself posing a new question, his mind still obsessed with how to overcome the woman’s seemingly unshakable rhythm. “Humans,” he paused, “naturally seek intimacy with a mate, do they not? Would dying not deny you the need for such a formal coupling?”

Komugi felt her skin grow hot as a peachy-pink blush kissed her full cheeks. She lowered her head, attempting to hide the flushed color, albeit unsuccessfully. 

“Well? Answer me. I _won’t_ repeat myself.”

“W—w—well, you see, Supreme Leader, I don’t really think anything like that is fit for someone like—like me.”

“Explain,” he hastily shot back, a hint of confusion in his voice. He observed nothing of her physical form that should hinder her eligibility to produce an acceptable progeny.

“Um, well, uh…I wouldn’t be a very good…’mate,” she paused here, trying to grasp the King’s odd word choice. “Wha—what good would a blind wife even be? I can’t cook without burning myself or the food and I—I break more things than I’m able to clean.”

“What significance do meal preparation and housekeeping have in regard to procreation?” The confusion in his tone had grown more evident. Nowhere in the medical texts he had thumbed through did he see anything about a partner requiring these qualities. Could it be some sort of bizarre mating ritual? After fruitful fertilization, these characteristics would be deemed positively pointless since both parties would go their separate ways. Ergo, allowing the male to couple with other females and further ensuring his successful posterity. Humans truly were nonsensical and confusing creatures. 

“P—pro—procreation? Like babies?” Her eyes widened in a mix of shock and embarrassing fear. “I wouldn’t—I mean, I couldn’t—That just isn’t somethin’ I could do.”

The King eased back in his position and began to size the small woman up, scanning for her apparent faults. “Then you’re barren?” he finally concluded.

“Ehhh? No, no…I’m not…I’m not b—b—barren Supreme Leader, Sir. I just wouldn’t be…well, _wanted_ is all.” She wrapped her arms tightly around her core, a noticeable sadness overtaking her small features as her head hung depressingly low.

“Then, I fail to see why you’re less desirable than any other human female.”

Komugi blushed again at his flattering (although oddly worded) compliment, her hands rushing to hide her crimson cheeks as she slightly rocked back and forth. A wave of hot static surged through her body and caused the tiny, pale hairs on her arms to stand on end. Did he really just say that? _Him_? The Supreme Leader of East Gorteau? 

Meanwhile, the King studied the girl’s bizarre behavior before inwardly reflecting on his own. Why did her flesh turn to such a pleasing shade of scarlet, and why did he find himself favoring it? He thought back to a stack of books that Pouf had provided days ago. Perhaps this “erotic literature” could bring to light answers. He made a mental note to later delve into the texts he had previously passed by in favor of the more academic writings.

Lost in thought, the King had not noticed that Komugi finally relaxed her posture, her blush had softened, and once again, she gazed towards him with those wide, nacre eyes. Earlier that day, he had rationalized she used her unsighted, frosted hues as a tool to demonstrate undivided attention towards him. The theory seemed even more likely now as she began to sheepishly inquire, “What about you Your Majesty? Do you have someone like that in the palace…a m—mate?”

“No,” he answered bluntly. “I have more compelling matters at hand.”

For some reason, the answer made her somewhat happy. That meant there would be more time for gungi, if she could continue to best him, that is. She resolved to always defeat him so she could stay by his side longer. After all, no one had ever let her speak at such lengths, and when he spoke without irritation, his voice caused a faint twitch inside her chest. She had never heard a voice she preferred to his deep, soothing tone. Surely, there was something special about the new leader.

“Enough,” the King boomed, interrupting her tingly euphoria, “this bores me.” Glancing up at her glassy, pale eyes he added, “Let us play.”

“Hai!” Without hesitation, Komugi sprang to life, reaching for the discarded game pieces that had been tossed after their last match. Unable to see, however, she did not realize that her opponent had also made a move for the black and white discs. When their hands clashed, both adversaries failed to hold in shocked gasps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never sobbed over a couple so much. Total ugly crying as my spouse laughed at me XD 
> 
> This is my way of coping, I suppose. I'm challenging myself to remain within the canon timeline. There's a lot of time left unexplored, and I see no reason why we can't all have fun with it. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! This is the first story I've ever tried to write, and you checking it out seriously means so much to me.


	2. First Touch

There was a frenzied flicker, a sudden wild and demanding spark, when their hands first met. For a moment, time froze for both, each pausing against the other’s touch, neither yielding. Her eyes flittered open and her jaw fell at the abrupt feel of rough fingers resting beneath her own. _Was she touching the Supreme Leader without permission?_

A panic began to bubble within her, not for her life, but for fear this would mean the game’s end. Within seconds, her forehead was pressed firmly against the floor, her hands frantically sliding palms-down against the ruby-red carpet. In an urgent tone she began to howl heartfelt apologies, her mind swimming in both embarrassment and fear. 

“Please forgive me for my disrespect Supreme Leader! I didn’t mean to touch you without asking! Please forgive my stupidity! I’m sorry you had to touch someone as undeserving and lowly as me!”

He watched her quiver there against the floor, his outstretched hand still resting atop the gungi pieces he had intended to claim. A mix of unfamiliar emotion was swirling within him like a savage whirlpool, the waters lapping against his chest and throat, leaving an odd and aching burning sensation. 

He withdrew his hand and held it before his violet eyes, his fingers stretching out as he, almost expectantly, searched his skin for noticeable changes. When her soft hand brushed against his own, the sudden surge he felt momentarily disarmed the King. Did she possess some sort of otherworldly power he had yet to acknowledge? 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he managed to call out, “Be at ease.” 

Komugi shyly raised her tear-soaked face and smiled. She rapidly began thanking him for his kindness, especially towards someone as irrelevant and undeserving as herself. He just kept staring at her, his fingers suspended in midair as though some spell had cuffed him to the ether. 

For some reason, that smile, as she tearfully thanked him again and again, sent another pang throughout his chest. What was this human doing? Why was her skin so red and why was his breath catching in his chest? Everything tingled. Everything felt strange. 

He lowered his hand, his thoughts thoroughly muddled within his mind. He would need to monitor her closely in case she did, indeed, intend him harm. Obviously, she must be endowed with a powerful ability. How else could she compel his heart to pound this wildly? 

‘Perhaps, she kills her prey slowly.’

* * *

Minutes stretched into achingly long hours and the King kept finding himself distracted. Their games lingered on another day and deep into the next night, and all the while, he kept thinking about the woman seated before him. Why was this human’s touch so soft and warm? Why did it feel like honey-smooth velvet as it glided delicately against his own skin? 

True to her word, Komugi had continued to play without complaint. And while mentally she did not hesitate even once, the King had begun to observe many physical changes. Her eyes now began to grow heavy, a slight shadow developing beneath her brilliantly blue orbs. What were once smooth, pink lips had grown chapped and slightly withered from dehydration. Despite her best efforts, her movements had also decreased in speed, but only to a degree that someone as observant as the King would notice. 

While he watched her obviously succumb to her limits, the King could not extrapolate how such a weak and poorly designed species had managed to thrive for so long. They should have died out thousands of years ago, leaving the planet to creatures far more deserving. He smirked, reflecting upon his destiny to accomplish exactly that in the weeks to come. He, nature’s masterpiece, would rectify the mistakes and blunders of so many centuries in just mere months. 

Today, however, he could leave all responsibilities to his Royal Guards. Instead of conquest and glory, he could assess this vexing human whose awkward physicality never betrayed the secret of her supremely developed cognitive gifts. And they were indeed impressive gifts, even if merely regulated to a trivial game.

Meanwhile, Komugi, too, found herself lost in a thicket of thought. She could not follow why, in his own palace, the Supreme Leader felt the need to wear gloves and armor. At least, she had assumed what she felt were the slightly cool ridges of firm armor cresting around the curves of each knuckle. 

And had he been in an accident? She distinctly felt only four digits on the hand softly clutched beneath her own trembling fingers. It had all felt so hard to the touch. If it were not absurd, she would even think he felt inhuman. No matter what, there was definitely a baffling sense of flesh there and not the usual puckering of even the most well-fitted leather gloves. Could his broad fingers really be so thoroughly calloused? 

She began to speculate if the firmness was earned from years of hardened battle. That would surely lend merit to how he could so easily shatter his own arm like glass. It filled her with awe that he was obviously already using the affected limb! How is that even possible? Doctor Blythe must truly be a miracle worker.

No matter the reason for his rough, textured hands, Komugi found herself wishing she could touch him again, even if for just a few moments. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had held her hand, and she had absolutely never held the hand of a man who wasn’t harshly dragging her across the farm while openly broadcasting how much of a nuisance she could be. The Supreme Leader had not even recoiled in disgust at her touch or punished her for invading his valuable personal space. Those few, fleeting seconds of gentle caress were already the most treasured human contact she had ever experienced in this cruel lifetime.

At the same time, the King too contemplated their unexpected and sadly fleeting touch. The soft stroke of the woman’s hand was the only physical contact he had felt in his existence aside from the tearing of flesh or the utilitarian need to grasp Pouf or Youpi’s legs during travel. Even then, he used his long, prehensile tail to coil around each guard, preferring to fold his arms casually against his strong chest.

She sighed a bit, her wide, doll-like eyes drifting closed often only to spring back into momentary life. She fought desperately to not collapse and sleep across the gungi board before her. Her opponent observed her, a peculiar feeling spreading throughout as he watched her amusing struggle. Despite his earlier declaration that there would be no more breaks, a part of him strangely shifted, opting instead to accommodate his weary adversary.

“Take a break. We’ll start again in half a day.”

She immediately reanimated at his order, insisting that she could continue without rest. The Supreme Leader, however, kept walking, breezing by both the woman and his Royal Guard, Pouf, who had been glaring daggers at the girl for the better part of the last day. The King could discern the fanatical guard’s hostility but cared little.

Deciding his concession was strictly related to his need for an honorable battle, the King felt confident in his unexpected decision. This woman’s increased comfort would simply be a byproduct of his personal wants. None of this was for the girl, and to be clear to both himself and his opponent, he loudly decreed as he exited the room, “I would not enjoy beating you when you’re weak. Get back into top shape.” 

Komugi sighed as she heard his footfalls grow faint and then abruptly vanish. Who exactly was this strange, new leader, and more importantly, when would he return?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun story: I have been spending a hilarious amount of time contemplating Meruem's anatomy from the perspective of someone who is blind. There's obviously a pliable chitin, right? What about the addition of sclerotin? What about the human component? How does that change texture? Is he cold blooded or warm? If Komugi and Meruem had a child would there be an occasional molting period to allow for growth? For Komugi's sake I seriously hope that shell helmet gene is recessive...but then, if we're talking turtle anatomy here the shell might be quite pliable at birth, especially when adding in the human DNA element. Why am I even considering all of this? I should be studying. 
> 
> I'm so sorry. Send help.


	3. Accommodations

The ostentatious, golden seat sat high and proud at the head of the throne room. Resting upon the luxurious, red velvet cushion, the King snarled, his thoughts deeply reflecting upon the last few days.

His right hand flexed, the palm facing away as he recalled the way her touch felt against each broad digit. He had only felt her skin for a few moments and that small taste had left him with a bizarre craving. Yes, “ ** _taste_** ,” because this need felt like hunger, but it was so obviously different. Still, it felt primal and seeded with a deep, visceral longing. One that he struggled to understand.

She would be asleep by now, tucked away in the guestroom of the west tower. There was no way the woman would be able to remain awake given how long he forced her to play. Humans had need for constant rest, and it was all so bothersome. Almost as bothersome as how this creature apparently did not eat enough, evidenced by her rather thin hand. 

He paused, instantaneously realizing an appalling oversight on his part. ‘Humans need to eat frequently, do they not?’ He was sure that was the case, although, he had not cared to actively acknowledge that fact until this very specific circumstance. Who, after all, cares if a few humans starve? He only needs this one and that detestable Bizeff human with whom he favored zero interaction.

‘I need the girl,’ he thought to himself, tossing the desire back and forth as if he were ruminating on an expensive, new purchase. No, he corrected, he _wanted_ her. For now, at least. She, like all humans, was undeniably expendable. Although, his matches against the woman did please him. And surely, if this adversary were performing at the peak of both her physical and mental capabilities, these matches would please him even more. Yes, for the sake of his entertainment, the girl needed to have her base needs tended to. 

Rising from his throne, the King called out for his Royal Guards, ready to deliver orders to each.

* * *

For several hours, Komugi had slept and the three Royal Guards had dutifully acted upon each of the King’s commands. Pouf, a haughty and zealous butterfly chimera, had responded to his food preparation task with tepid flare, mildly annoying the King who increasingly sensed the ant’s hostility towards the human woman. Still, much like the others, Pouf would undoubtedly obey any desire of the King’s. 

Pitou, a scientifically minded yet easily distractable cat chimera, had thoroughly enjoyed her task. Realizing that Komugi’s clothes were soiled by his own blood, the King had instructed Pitou to seek out a suitable replacement outfit for Komugi while her own skirt and blouse were to be sanitized. The guard had been instructed to collect the clothes later when she would escort the girl to one of the lavish, private baths found within the sprawling palace.

As for Youpi, the only magical beast chimera, he thought his task nonsensical. For some reason, the King wanted the blind gungi player to be totally relaxed and unburdened by the beginning of their next match. His Majesty had read in one of the many palace library books that certain scents were especially soothing and therapeutic to humans, easing their minds and sometimes even aiding in relaxing their inferior forms. Thus, he had sent Youpi out to find specific plants that supposedly grew not too far from the palace. 

Youpi had found the blooms easily, and as he returned, he silently questioned how any of this was going to make a board game more enjoyable. Knowing his place, he ultimately concluded that the King, as always, knows best. 

* * *

Komugi stirred against a marvelous softness, the coolness of the silky sheets caressing her small frame as she stretched her arms high above her head. This bed was _huge_. She could lay in any direction and still fit with room to spare! The size had amazed her from the moment she first climbed under the plush blanket and it snuggled her form in one of the softest hugs she had ever known. This was so much better than the bed of sparse straw she usually found herself retiring upon each night. The Supreme Leader truly was an incredibly generous man to offer someone as lowly as her such an unfathomable luxury. 

She sat up, shifting the dusty-rose shirt that she had, for once, peacefully slept in. She knew that it was not the best decision to wear her only outfit to bed, but in fairness, she was simply too exhausted to struggle with taking it off. She silently chastised herself and imagined the grime she probably soiled such a beautiful bed with. Hopefully, the Supreme Leader would forgive her stupidity and carelessness.

Her stomach growled and she groaned softly, clutching her core with both her tiny hands. She barely had enough time to fully assess the discomfort when a sudden voice evoked a high-pitched squeal from her lips.

“I trust you slept well?” the calm, deep voice queried.

“D-Dear Leader?” Komugi exclaimed, jumping from beneath the massive blanket and blushing a vibrant shade of pink. “Why are you in my—my room?”

He thought for a moment, the question sounding positively absurd. “This is _my_ palace, is it not? I am well within my right to go wherever I please.”

She stammered an apology, suddenly relieved that she had not slept in the nude as she had planned. It would have been so embarrassing to wake up to the Supreme Leader _and_ assault his royal gaze with her undesirable form.

“I’ve arranged a few diversions for you,” the King announced, his tone matter of fact.

“Um… ’diversions,’ Your Highness?” Her heart skipped a beat and she swallowed tightly, unsure of where this conversation was progressing.

“Yes,” he continued, his fingers drumming against the arm of a garishly embroidered chair, “It merely came to my realization that you cannot offer me a gungi match at peak performance if your physiological needs are not met. You will indulge in a meal prepared by one of my Royal Guards and then bathe.”

“No, I couldn’t accept anything of that sort Your Majesty! I’m unwort—"

“ **Silence**!” he boomed, his mouth snarling and fangs glistening. Seeing her wince at his tone, he adjusted his voice accordingly. In a much more soothing pitch, he continued, “I have already made arrangements and you will _not_ deny me.” He stiffened and added, “Do not squander this kindness.”

She nodded, quickly showering the King in gratitude. However, as she began her praise, she heard the melodic voice of a Royal Guard call from outside the room’s thick, wooden doors.

“Enter.”

The gilded door gracefully swung wide as Pouf waltzed into the guest suite. A delicious smell followed him, Youpi trailing close behind and carrying what was probably the biggest breakfast tray any human could ever encounter. The red ant placed it before a rather confused but obviously excited Komugi. 

“Umm…food?” Trembling, she awkwardly began to fumble amongst the many plates and goblets lining the golden tray. Raising her glistening, tear-streaked face towards Pouf and Youpi, she hoarsely choked out, “This—this is for me?”

Pouf sighed, ignoring the girl, and instead turning to face his King. “As requested, Sire, I have prepared a wide selection of cuisine given that we don’t know what… _her_ palate favors.” 

“Both of you,” the King commanded, paying little attention to the butterfly chimera, “remove yourselves from this tower and tell Pitou I expect her presence in one hour.”

“As you wish, Sire.” 

As he exited the guest chambers, Pouf silently wondered if he should offer to take the King’s place and babysit the sniveling weakling. He thought it wise not to ask, however, and instead, continued his inner dialogue where he moaned over his failure to poison even one of the many handmade dishes. Hopefully, the King was not gradually adopting a snot-soaked pet. 

‘Worse yet,’ Pouf thought, ‘No, I mustn’t assume such things. She is nothing.’

Back in the guestroom, Komugi trembled in soft sobs. She was achingly hungry, but she could not seem to pick up even the tiniest morsel. Delicious smells filled her lungs, the decadent aroma almost painful.

“Why do you cry?” the King questioned, genuinely curious. “Is nothing to your liking?”

She gasped, turning towards him, and shaking her head with great force. “N—No, Dear Leader, It’s just…I just…”

“Yes?” he interjected, his patience beginning to obviously wane.

“No one has ever made a meal for me since I was small, and to think it’s something so big. This has to be,” she hovered her delicate fingers over the length of the board, feeling the steam emanating from many of the plates, “this has to be a _whole month’s_ worth of food for my family. I never thought so mu—much food could even be on one table!”

He shifted on the ornately patterned chair that overlooked the girl, her words confusing him. This tiny girl seemed so thankful for what he considered to be a simple sampling of commonly enjoyed human cuisine. There was nothing noteworthy about the spread aside from her pathetic reaction.

“Eat,” he stated firmly, softening his voice as he noticed her body twitch, “to your satisfaction.”

She smiled wide, her eyes glistening like rain-kissed opals. “Thank you so much Supreme Leader! Will—will you, I mean, would you like to share the meal with me? There’s too much for me to eat.”

The King smirked, inhaling the scent of the food she was offering. Nothing smelled the least bit appetizing to him. Not that she would understand why. She had no reason to suspect he devoured her own species to satiate his ravenous appetite. 

“I’m not hungry,” he flatly responded. She looked disappointed for a few seconds before, once again, smiling wide at the gracious ruler. 

The King watched as she fondled each dish, her fingers trying to feel out and confirm what each offering was. He had to stifle a laugh as her fingers carelessly sunk into a bowl of what appeared to be chocolate pudding. Her face contorted in response to the strange texture before she lifted her fingers to her mouth and cautiously sampled the dessert. A grin spreading from ear to ear, she realized she had found something sweet. Given her station in life, desserts were not something she indulged in often. Occasionally, however, gungi tournaments would have small treats for the contenders, and those luxuries were something she would sometimes daydream about from her bed made of straw. 

She ate and he continued to watch, losing track of time as she rambled on about some strange, boiled egg which she found delicious and he thought positively repulsive. Her manners were non-existent. Had no one ever taught her how to dine in the company of others? He silently mused on the advantages bathing would offer _after_ eating. She obviously would always need fed her before general hygiene rituals. 

After a while, the young blonde scooted back from the sprawling tray table and humorously collapsed against the bed. The king felt the corners of his mouth twitch, a smile trying to break his usually stoic expression.

“That was _the best_ meal I’ve ever eaten Supreme Leader!” she exclaimed ecstatically. “I need to tell Sir Pouf how amazing his cooking is! He could be a fancy chef or somethin’!”

The King’s mind silently conjured the look of repugnance Pouf would surely respond to her praise with. The thought made him grin a little wider. He would need to keep an eye on the butterfly chimera.

“Sire?” a female voice called out from beyond the towering twin doors. The King beckoned her inside, never relinquishing his gaze from the frail girl before him.

Pitou walked in, smiling wide, and bowed deeply to her King. She stood tall again, awaiting orders as her long, white tail curled and whipped about behind her.

“I’m leaving you in the charge of Pitou now,” the King stated, rising to his feet and heading towards the room’s only exit. 

Komugi nodded in understanding, a bit nervous since Pitou had not been around nearly as much as the kind, male guard who cooked so wonderfully. She heard the King say something else, but she could not quite make the words out. She thought it odd since he was usually so assertive and easy to understand, especially given her heightened sense of hearing. 

The door closed behind the Supreme Leader and Komugi focused her hearing on the person who was undoubtedly still in the room. Much like Dear Leader, this woman was also followed by a swishing noise as she strolled closer, albeit much fainter. She wondered if they all wore capes. It would not be so strange. After all, the King had been wearing armor, right?

Pitou slunk over to the bed, a huge Cheshire grin swallowing her face. She stood in front of the pale woman, looking down at the mess of tangled hair and soiled clothing. “Neow, you’re coming with me,” she sang with mischievous glee. 

Komugi immediately longed for the Supreme Leader’s return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random author thought: No matter how much I practice, my eyeliner will never be as on-point as Meruem's, and that's a hard truth I must learn to live with.
> 
> ____________
> 
> Thank you all so much!!! It really means so much to me to see kudos and comments! I'm having a lot of fun, especially since I've gotten to interact with a couple of you. After mapping out the canon timeline, I realized we have quite a wealth of time to play with. I hope some of you are ready to strap in and go for a ride. We'll stop for snacks XD 
> 
> Speaking of snacks, tune in next time for a scrumptious sampling of sexual tension. We're finally reaching a slow simmer. When will we finally boil? 
> 
> I need a nap.


	4. Modest Miss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pitou's Gender: I honestly have no idea, and I love the character no matter what they identify as. I decided to go with female in this piece because it suits my needs more, but out of respect to the original character and their gender ambiguity, instead of using "sir" as I do with the other two Royal Guards, I have opted to use "ser" (a gender-neutral counterpart) when referring to Pitou. 
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Sexual tension, I suppose.

Pitou had decidedly liked her task as she guided the blind woman down a wide hall, her hand firmly pressed against the smaller woman’s left shoulder. It was not that she particularly cared for the human, but the King seemed to have an active interest in her. That fact, Pitou decided, was enough to ignite a desire to not only execute her given orders perfectly, but to have some fun while she was at it. Fun that would, of course, not displease the King.

Komugi felt the stone floor beneath her bare feet transition to soft carpet as Pitou announced their arrival at one of the other bedchambers found within the palace. This one, Pitou explained, had the private bathroom connected to the bedroom itself. It also happened to be the most lavish. 

Komugi nervously walked on, feeling the insistent nudge of the Royal Guard’s hand as it gripped against the girl’s cotton blouse. Again, the floor beneath her feet changed. This time she was not sure what it was comprised of. It felt smoother than the cold stone found in the corridors.

“We’re here!” Pitou excitedly announced waving her arms about the space as if she were presenting it to be judged. She quickly realized that her charge, disappointingly, could not see all her hard work.

If she could see, however, Komugi would have been more than impressed. The entire room was an extravagant sight. A massive claw-foot tub rested in the center of the white-marble-floored room. Candles flickered from several wall sconces, the only light Pitou deemed necessary. Komugi needed no light, but if anyone else were to wander in, they would surely appreciate the warm glow illuminating the paneled walls, casting haunting shadows that danced as each flame swayed.

The tub was surrounded by sheer, billowing curtains, each one framing the haven’s obvious main attraction. And while she could not appreciate the rich purple hues of countless flowers, Pitou hoped that the fragrant smell would be to the woman’s liking. Youpi had, by command of the King, gone on his own quest to specifically bring back those exact blooms. Even Pouf had admitted the scent was rather enchanting.

Komugi stood quietly, her hands twisting nervously within her bunched-up skirt. She was not sure what was happening, and she felt greater unease as the minutes passed. Pitou, perhaps sensing the human’s disquiet, walked over and reassuringly placed her hands atop the girl’s small shoulders. “It’s okay. I will make sure you have everything you need.”

A smile crept onto Komugi’s face. She believed the ant. 

“First thing’s first,” Pitou hummed, “I need _all_ your clothes!”

“Ehhhh?” Komugi squeaked out. “It’s o—okay Ser Pitou. I can manage to get undressed and into the bath all by myself. Really!” 

Pitou was not even listening as she tugged the girl’s blouse over her head and awkwardly bulging pigtails. She continued without pause, swiftly yanking the ruffle-hemmed skirt down to the woman’s feet. Lastly, she reached up and expertly untangled the bindings from Komugi’s hair. Not even one strand was pulled uncomfortably. Pitou felt pride for her inherent catlike grace.

Komugi now stood there, a thin arm desperately hiding her breasts as the other hand shot down to censor an area she wasn’t keen on showing to just anyone. Pitou watched on, confused and mildly amused at the human’s frantic (and ultimately pointless) dance for modesty.

“Okay then,” Pitou declared, picking up Komugi’s discarded clothes, “Your bath is right in front of you and there are soaps on the table to the left. I even put a surprise in the water! I was going to pour it into one of the reflection pools outdoors…but I guess this works, too.”

And then, just like that, Komugi heard the fast-paced footfalls of Pitou as she hurriedly exited the room. At last, the woman found herself alone in a foreign room she had no spatial knowledge of. She knew the bath was directly in front of her, though. She might as well enjoy what the Supreme Leader had so graciously provided. 

Moving slowly, she reached out and felt for the tub’s edge. Her hands met with the smooth, porcelain surface and she sighed in relief. At least that was not difficult to find. With uncharacteristic daintiness, she lifted her right leg and gently climbed into the bath.

She immediately understood what the “surprise” was that Pitou had so impishly left behind. A thick cloud of bubbles swallowed her form like a white whale rising from the deep sea. She had heard about bubble baths before. Who could possibly afford to waste so much soap, though? Still, she had to admit the sensation felt pleasant. She giggled slightly as a foamy mound of bubbles tickled her face ever so gently. This, truly, was not a bad experience in the least. 

She glided weightlessly through the water. To most people of average height, this tub would be comfortable but nothing even close to the spaciousness that Komugi could experience. Being so small had benefits from time to time and this was one of those wonderful instances. It was even somewhat fun to pass between the grand bubble canyons that were forming in her body’s wake. She silently thanked Ser Pitou, smiling to herself at how a giant, outdoor pool would have felt frosted with soapy, slick bubbles. 

She had swished to and fro in the waters so many times that now she couldn’t figure out which side was left and which was right. Pitou had provided soaps to the left, she remembered, and she should probably wash her hair before the water cooled. She would just have to take a guess and try to find her toiletries. 

With outreached hands she started to feel about. There was a table, that much was evident, but was it the correct table? Were there even two tables to begin with? Her answer came quickly as she realized this table was only crowned with drapes of sweet-smelling flowers. She rested her head against the rim of the tub, hands still outstretched towards the table, and inhaled deeply. The scent seemed to warm her from the inside out. Her floral discovery confirmed she would find the soaps at the other end of the tub. 

Before she could slink back into the waters and begin gliding towards her destination, she felt something nudge against her outreached palm. Startled, she yelped loudly and slipped forward, her face falling beneath the waters as her legs were greeted by the cool air. Immediately, she felt someone grasp her arm and pull her back above water. She coughed, swiftly swiping her slick, ivory locks away from her eyes. Ser Pitou must have returned!

“Ser Pitou I didn’t realize you had come back! I’m sorry for being such a clumsy mess!”

Pitou did not reply, however. No, much to Komugi’s horror a different, yet quite familiar, voice responded. Not with words but in a resonating, hearty chuckle that stilled the woman as though the waters had iced. “Su—S—Supreme Leader?!” she exclaimed, her voice drowning in agony and embarrassment. 

He stifled his laugh with a choke, obviously taken aback by his own outburst. “I believe you wanted this,” he hummed more as a statement than a question, his voice returning to its usual stoicism.

“You can’t be here!” she cried out.

Taken aback by her audacity he sharply shot back, “Why?”

“It’s inappropriate,” she squealed, her hands scooping bubbles around her body as a sort of makeshift modesty curtain. She had not even realized that her former statement was an order to the Supreme Leader himself. 

“How is it _inappropriate_ to be in my own chambers?”

She froze again, her jaw wide and unseeing eyes even wider. Had she heard him correctly? “This is y—y— _YOUR_ bathroom?” she stammered. She felt light-headed. What had Ser Pitou done?

“It is,” he swiftly replied. “Pitou said this room would be the most pleasant out of all she had surveyed.”

Komugi buried her blushing face within her soapy hands. This was so terribly embarrassing. The Supreme Leader having to find such a lowly fool in his own private bath. She inwardly cringed imagining how she must be the most hideous woman he has ever found nude in his quarters.

Then it hit her like a tidal wave ripping through a crowded city. She was not just naked. She was _naked before the Supreme Leader_!

“I’m so sorry Your Majesty! I didn’t…”

“Silence,” he cut her off. “This bottle is what you sought, is it not?” He brought the plum-colored bottle near her, his body kneeling to rest comfortably on a plush stool that was conveniently placed beside the tub. Oddly, he had not seen it there earlier that morning.

Komugi reached her hand forward, her fingers meeting up with the cold glass. Nervously, she went to grasp it in her hand as he simultaneously released his hold. Her slippery palm slid as the bottle began its escape. Before it could fall, however, those same large, coarse hands she had only vaguely become acquainted with days before, encompassed her own. That same electrical charge surged through her fingertips and sizzled down her spine. 

She only realized she had not been breathing as he finally began to speak. “Perhaps it is best if I assist you in this task,” he offered. Somehow, his voice was even deeper now. She could happily drown in his low, sensual sound.

She wanted to insist upon her unworthiness, but for some reason she could not speak. She could barely even catch her breath as her heart pounded wildly against her chest. She wondered if it would burst at any moment, the thought quickly discarded as his firm hands gently pulled her through the water. She found herself near him now, his barely audible breathing being the only sound she heard. Obediently, she found herself swirling around in the water like a delicate dancer, his silent guidance pulling her shoulders to rest against the tub’s cool lip. He released her hand finally, taking the flame-licked bottle with him. 

Immediately, she ached for his haunting touch to return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random warm & happy thought: I want Meruem to throw Komugi a birthday party where her cake is a gungi board and the game pieces are all candy ^_^
> 
> _______________ 
> 
> This experience has been a tremendous amount of fun for me and has made me realize writing is a previously unknown passion. My only regret is that I didn’t watch/read Hunter x Hunter sooner. 
> 
> I know I’m a broken record, but I thank all of you, once again, for going on this healing journey with me. I work long hours and this has been an amazing stress reliever for me.


	5. Isolating the Spy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Adult situations, self-deprecating thoughts

When he saw Pitou, once again, sitting high atop her post, he knew the girl was alone. He had paced a bit, his tail mimicking his annoyed thoughts as it lashed against the air. The woman meant nothing so why was he so interested in going to her now? All he needed to do was wait for her to finish and then their gungi matches would resume. Now, with her performing at her undisputed best. His inevitable victory would truly be absolute. 

He thought back to her soft touch. Was her whole body that buttery soft? Would he melt against her frame if he had the chance to press her body against his own? He felt his chest swell and suffer with that strange hunger again, and before he knew it, he was already walking towards his private chambers. 

He only wanted to satisfy his scientific intrigue. At least, that is what he told himself as he silently crossed the threshold between his place of occasional rest and what he had recently thought a gaudy shrine to human self-indulgence. He would just _look_ at her. That is all. Perhaps, he would learn something new concerning human anatomy. Knowledge is a noble pursuit. This was simply research, nothing more.

His “noble pursuit of knowledge” had crumbled, however, the second he saw her swaying about in the soap-frosted water. She looked like some sort of nymph from legend with her snow-white hair and pure smile. Surprising himself again, he admired her in that moment for something other than tactics and strategy.

When he saw her begin to rake her hands along the top of the nearest table, he realized she was probably looking for the colorful bottles that lined the matching furniture piece bookending the bath. She was so engrossed in the smell of those wildflowers that she had not even realized he had come to stand directly beside her. 

Now, here she was, face turned away and anxiously rigid before him. Her slender body enclosed and guarded by bubbles. He sat, staring at her for a moment, memorizing the length of her narrow neck and the curve of each delicate shoulder. Water droplets dotted her skin, some merging and trickling down into the slippery sea surrounding her. His eyes traced the fragile line of her collarbones, and then down, down, _down_ until his gaze settled on the swell of her mostly submerged breasts. A light-headed rush flooded his mind as he decided he greatly disapproved of bubbles and their irritating concealing abilities.

He was drowning in dizzy thoughts until a gasp abruptly pulled him from the depths. He had, in his haze, absentmindedly begun to trace a broad finger down the wet, shimmering flesh of her neck. Locks of her milk-white hair gently passed against his other fingers in long, slick strokes. 

She was, somehow, even more rigid than before. He still detected a subtle quiver in her posture, and small bumps spread across her alabaster skin as though it were licked by a cool wind. He stilled his hand against her bare shoulder, realizing he had made her uncomfortable and possibly even frightened. A need to soothe her anxiousness overtook him.

“Relax,” he cooed darkly, “I’m not going to eat you.” She remained tense so he continued in a far less taunting tone, “Trust that I will not harm you.”

She trembled beneath his caress before exhaling a shaky breath. Her tense shoulders began to soften, her body cautiously surrendering to the comforting embrace of the foamy waters surrounding her. 

She spoke in a barely audible whisper, “You shouldn’t bother yourself with me, Your Majesty.”

A logical part of him agreed, and yet, here he was gliding his hands up to her scalp and gently passing his fingers through her thick, soaked hair. He paused, abruptly stopped by a tight and stubborn knot. Another problem to remedy, in time. 

“It is not a bother,” he replied, realizing that the urge to touch her far outweighed any desire to leave.

“You’re very kind,” she sighed, leaning into his touch. He welcomed the favorable turn in her behavior, and with care, lightly massaged her scalp. 

Half-heartedly, he objected, the true weight of his earlier statement not lost upon him, “You hardly know me. I could be a monster.”

“Maybe…but you’re at least one who won’t _eat_ me, right?”

He paused, realizing it was meant in humor but still unable to laugh. Under usual circumstances, the irony would have elicited a dark and perhaps slightly manic cackle to bellow deep from his chest, but now, here with this girl, the jest made him feel ill. He glanced at her neck, the porcelain skin glistening in the flickering candlelight, and imagined snaring the flesh betwixt his teeth. He winced at the thought of the bathwater running red with her blood.

He stiffly swallowed, pouring a generous amount of shampoo atop her crown before promising, “That is not a desire I harbor.”

She smiled a bit, figuring her joke fell somewhat flat but not surprised by the fact. She was never particularly funny. She was never really _anything_ except good at gungi. She knew she had no other talents. The cruel world had been more than eager to remind her of her shortcomings. 

She lacked elegance and beauty, as well, her family had informed her. It was an offense her parents often blamed for their inability to one day marry her to a man of their village. Her blindness was burdensome, but they reasoned that a suitor would have at least relieved them of their hardship had she been beautiful, and therefore, valuable. The money earned from gungi was, sadly, the only reason her plainness was no longer in constant critique. Komugi frowned deeply as the thoughts drug her down into a familiar despair.

“Is my technique troublesome?” the King grimaced, sure he must be unintentionally inflicting pain. 

She snapped out of her fog, “Oh n—no Supreme Leader! I’m s—sorry to be so rude! I was just thinking is all. Thank you for helping me!” 

He relaxed, relieved that he was not hurting the young woman. Mildly entranced, he observed as a dense lather of suds frothed up and slowly slid down the back of her tilted head. The sight reminded him of the ivory-toned veils in a particularly glossy, and rather unsubstantial, book he had found in one of the palace bedrooms. He had discovered many strange things while touring his newly acquired castle.

A problem occurred to him as he continued to massage the girl’s scalp. Now, even more foam had found base in the tub, claiming everything it touched like an edacious, lathery lava. “How does one clear away these bothersome bubbles?” he inquired, blowing a gust of breath against his sudsy hand. He slightly snickered as the foam dispersed in a burst, frothy fairies taking to the cool air.

Komugi laughed, hearing his faint chuckle. One of the soapy, sky dancers came to rest on her nose, tickling the surface. “Umm…I’ve never felt this many bubbles, but usually one of my siblings would just pour some water on my head.”

The King glanced over to the tub’s golden faucet, for the first time noticing the attached hand shower. He sighed, realizing that the obvious answer was in front of him all along. 

Suddenly, his good fortune dawned upon him. Water would flush away those meddlesome bubbles, and _finally_ , he would be able to gratify his obviously scientific curiosity. After all, he had come here to _look_. 

He spun the knob on the right side, fully confident that his foamy nemesis would soon meet defeat. A gush of clear, crisp water sprang from the faucet and forcibly dive-bombed into the basin below. A high-pitched yelp pierced the air.

“Eeeeeeeep!!!” Komugi squeaked, “It’s cold!”

With lightning speed, the King turned the knob back to its starting position. The water immediately ceased, only a few straggling drops still clinging to the faucet. 

Komugi was huddled amongst the bubbles, her knees pulled tight against her chest and teeth chattering. “C—c—c—c—ooooolddd—d—d—d,” she shivered out. 

The King grimaced, another new feeling invading his senses. “Let me try once more.”

This time, he turned the left knob and took special care to feel the water as he balanced hot and cold into a tepid mix. He felt satisfied as he heard her exhale in relief. Then, once she had relaxed her posture a bit, he took the hand shower and began to wash away the bubbly veil that still framed her small face. 

The bubbles were indeed meeting their demise, each succumbing to a cascading waterfall of absolute defeat. There was a new problem, however. After the frigid burst of liquid shock earlier, she had never pulled her knees away from her chest, and it seemed she had no plans to do so either.

Inwardly, the King frustratingly growled, ‘That’s mate.’

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meruem vs Bubbles is a very special headcanon to me XD


	6. Unexpected Gentleman

“Supreme Leader, plea—please, turn around and don’t look, o—okay?” Komugi shyly quavered in response to the King offering her a towel.

He paused, realizing that his chance to see _everything_ had finally come, bubbles be damned. Confusing himself, however, he decided to concede to her request. He sensed her modesty was, for some reason, important. 

“Fine,” he vowed and turned to face the other direction. He kept his arm outstretched towards her with the waiting cloth, musing quietly over whether he thinks she would easily find it.

He heard her rise, water splashing about as it fell from her naked form. For a moment, he considered turning to face her. She _is_ blind, and she has absolutely zero right to ask him to do anything. If he wills it, it is his. It made no sense to _not_ look. Still, he kept his violet orbs shielded from her figure.

“Thank you,” she bubbled, “You can look now, Your Majesty. I’m…I’m decent.” 

His eyes hungrily consumed the sight of her. She stood there with the powder-white towel wrapped snuggly around her sylphlike form, the hem barely revealing the rise of her alluring bust. Her skin was still slick with glassy moisture and her dripping hair clung to her fully exposed shoulders like starlight resting against the dewy earth. He assumed her need for virtue made her skip drying in favor of concealment, and he quietly approved of her curious quality for it now revealed a pleasing marvel for his ravenous eyes to indulge upon. 

She awkwardly swayed in their silence, unsure if she was offending the Supreme Leader and growing more and more nervous as each soundless second stretched. She prayed he was not standing there repulsed by her disordered appearance, and if he were, that he would have mercy and end her life right there in that agonizingly embarrassing moment.

Unknown to the uneasy maiden, disgust was, most definitely, not the experience of the King. He, instead, found himself desperately and greedily longing to caress her skin once more. Alas, he could not fabricate a reasonable excuse to act upon that hunger, and the realization irked him immensely. 

“Pouf,” he imparted, “is cleaning your usual garments. You will be without them for the foreseeable future.”

“O—oh.”

“Pitou has provided you with a suitable replacement.”

“Oh?” she chirped, suddenly relieved. 

“You’ll find it on the seat to your left. I will now take my leave.”

Komugi nodded and graciously thanked the Supreme Leader. It surprised her that he left his own bathroom to grant her privacy. He, twice now, made it clear that he could go anywhere he pleased and at any time. She reflected upon his gallant deed before slowly unfurling her towel and beginning to dry off. 

* * *

Komugi slid the soft fabric over her head, marveling at how silky and luxurious it felt. She was unsure of the look she now dressed her lean form in, but it felt better than anything she had ever worn before. She especially enjoyed that there were soft, short bloomers that fastened daintily at her waist with a satin bow.

Sliding her hands down the length of the gown, she felt it end in what must be a lace ruffle. She had never worn lace before, but she knew it was supposed to be what elegant and desirable women wore. She wondered why Ser Pitou had squandered such a garment on someone as pitiful and undeserving as her. 

The King was waiting in his bedchamber patiently, a book grasped firmly in his hand. He thumbed through the pages that described a peculiar game called “Greed Island.” He would have need to investigate this “video game” once the Selection was concluded. The possible challenge excited him. 

He heard a meek voice behind him trill out “Supreme Leader,” and, when he turned, he found the woman standing in the open doorway while she nervously twiddled her thumbs. He rose, walking over to stand before the blonde. 

“I trust the garment is to your liking?” the King inquired, eyeing the girl’s length approvingly. A pastel pink nightgown draped from her slender shoulders and loosely cascaded to just above her knees. Backlit from the still flickering candles, he could faintly discern the shapely curve of her waist beneath the flowing fabric.

“Umm…it’s really s—soft,” Komugi stuttered. Impulsively, she continued, “Do you—you like it Supreme Leader?” Her face flushed in embarrassment. She inwardly berated how stupid it is to ask His Majesty about a dress. He probably thought it was a waste on her, too. The dress, most likely, even belonged to some spellbinding lover who had left it here after a night of unbridled passion. Her wearing it was probably a joke to him, she sadly reminded herself.

Much to her surprise, the King earnestly replied, “I feel it suits you well.” It was a compliment she was not sure how to take, but it made her smile wider than she would normally find appropriate. After all, this dress was fringed in fine lace and felt like smooth, delicious buttercream as it clung to her form. Could that mean _she_ is worth such a luxurious frock? Her cheeks darkened at the forbidden thought.

“I see no reason you could not play gungi in this,” the King observed.

Komugi began to agree but her words never found flight. Instead, she squeaked as she felt herself being lifted off the ground and into the strong arms of the Supreme Leader. She gasped, instinctively wrapping her own arms around his neck, and clinging tightly.

“Carrying you would prove faster.” 

He grinned as the woman’s eyes bulged in shock, small hands grasping at the back of his vest. ‘She weighs practically nothing,’ he mused to himself while walking towards the girl’s guest chamber. He knew a gungi board was there, and most importantly, his guards would be elsewhere.

Komugi felt faint, drunk even, as she rested her still damp head against the King’s strong shoulder. This was all too much. Had she died? Was this some sort of dream that she would soon wake from, a tragedy that would surely break her? She was not sure. In that moment, all she knew was that the Supreme Leader had judged her worthy of being carried, even if it was just to shorten the time necessary to reach a gungi board. 

‘That’s right. We’re going to go play gungi,’ she quietly recalled, her heart beginning to drum faster. Yes, _this is it_. She had died, was now in paradise, and she was _sure_ of it. 

However, this euphoric dream had a quality both strange and nagging. When she had wrapped her arms around the Supreme Leader’s shoulders, she was sure her hands had awkwardly slid against the swell of a helmet. In his embrace, and with her head lulled against his solid chest, she was now almost positive of it. Something that could only be a strap gently brushed across her forehead as the King carried her. ‘He wears armored gloves _and_ a helmet?’ she puzzled. Komugi felt confused but rationalized he must just always be prepared for battle. She had not dared to touch beyond his neck and vest, but he obviously had the firm, muscular body of a well-trained warrior. 

She felt a hot, sweeping urge to reach up and caress his face, longing to know his shape and somehow positive the feel of his cheek would prove unbelievably enjoyable. Still unsure of her boundaries, she refrained. Instead, Komugi inhaled deeply, her nose unnaturally clear from the steamy bath. 

His scent, too, was strange. She found the earthy musk calming, her head nuzzling against the front of his vest while her body and mind experienced a rare and precious pleasure. For once in her turbulent and often frightening life, she felt safe.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofreading this chapter kinda made me feel sick. I just want them to be happy :'(
> 
> Thank you for continuing this journey with me. I am truly thankful for your time.
> 
> ::walks off to eat a gallon of ice cream and cry::


	7. Forbidden Desires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter In Dedication to FrenchUnicorn  
> I'm so happy to know you my new friend ^^
> 
> Check out her amazing art! There's even Meruem/Komugi content *_* <3  
> https://twitter.com/LeFrenchUnicorn

He had lowered her to the plush cushion much like Komugi imagined heroes in fairytales doing for priceless princesses or undeniably gorgeous maidens. It did not make sense why he had carried someone like her so gently, almost affectionately, through the long corridors of the palace. It perplexed her, as well, why the walk seemed to take longer than she remembered it to be, despite his claim that carrying her would lessen the length of their trek. She even noticed sounds that felt out of place. His footfalls and the faintly whistling wind seemed to echo in alien pitches. It was like they passed through a part of the palace she was wholly unfamiliar with.

She stacked her gungi piece atop her opponent’s, thusly forming a tower and taking control. The Supreme Leader was getting better. There was little doubt in that. Still, he would need to stretch further beyond if he ever had hope of defeating her. She considered offering him suggestions to improve his offense, but her thoughts, instead, swayed back to the memory of his strong arms lifting her with what could only be described as effortless grace.

His Majesty did not seem distracted, or at least she did not perceive him to be. Their comfortable rhythm had returned, and everything just felt right. A feathery blush spread across her face, contrasting against her silvery hair like cherry blossoms drifting through a pale sky. Her skin grew warm and vibrated slightly, a novel happiness flowing through her veins.

“What causes this?” she heard the King ask in a rich, deep tone. His voice compelled the buzzing vibrations in her skin to swell and bloom into pleasurable shivers.

“Why does _what_ happen, Dear Leader?”

“The color,” he clarified, “Why do you sometimes turn these shades akin to rouge? It is as though you’ve taken fever.”

Her pink flesh darkened, the deeper hue spreading to her ears and down her slender neck. 

“Like that,” he observed. “Do you often feel ill?”

She decided to offer a vague truth. “It—it means I’m happy.”

“And what inspires such exultation?” His voice hummed in a dizzyingly deep tone.

“I just really enjoy playing gungi with you, Supreme Leader.”

“Then why does your flesh also change hue when we are _not_ at the board?”

“Umm,” she paused, attempting to offer an answer that would end this torturous questioning. “Umm, well, I like—I like being around _you_ is all.”

“Intriguing,” the King replied, absorbing her answer. “Is that a usual display for humans?”

“So—sometimes,” she stuttered in a weak whisper. 

She expected him to reply, to fully advance and probe further into her swell of molten-hot embarrassment. The expected questions, however, never came. Instead, she heard him rise and walk to the corner of the room, towards the exit. 

Her heart sank.

She nearly cried assuming he was leaving her there to burn in her torturous abashment. Her ears readied to hear the door slam and her eyes brimmed with barely contained tears that would burst the second she knew she was alone.

She waited, but there was no slam. There was not even the soft thud of a door slowly eased shut. 

Instead, she heard the glide of drawers opening and closing. The sound was unmistakably the Supreme Leader trying to find something, although she could not fathom what. She continued to listen, her confusion mounting as she heard a final drawer slide flush and the sound of the King’s footsteps returning, passing the gungi board, and finally stopping directly behind her kneeling form.

His legs brushed against her own as he seated himself behind her, causing her breath to quake. A scarcely welled tear trickled down her face, leaving a hot trail, and ultimately, plummeting from her chin to her lap below. 

She startled a bit as his rough palm gently cupped her chin and his thumb tenderly slid across her cheek, wiping away the line of liquid she had so desperately fought to contain. In a hushed whisper he cooed into her ear, “Are you afraid? Did I _not_ say you are safe from harm?”

Her head slowly turned, still cradled by his large, strong hand. Her chest swelled in heaving breaths as she felt the heat of his face so close to her own. She opened her eyes, each iris blue and deep with longing. She was unable to see him, but somehow, she knew he was right there, his gaze in sync with her own. 

The sound was hoarse and quivering as she volleyed back, “I’m not afraid.”

His thumb slid against her mouth, gently dragging the lower lip open, the fingertip glossing over as it brushed against the wetness of her now softly parted pout. She steadied herself, a lusty desire bubbling up inside and threatening to overflow. Her eyes flickered shut in preparation for the ecstasy she yearned for him to claim. 

But this sweet and needed pleasure never came.

No, instead she felt the bitter break of his hand retreating from her heated flesh. A coolness surrounded her face as she felt his head pulling away, leaving her there with unsatiated carnal craving. A thick mass rose in her throat and threatened to choke her as she silently admitted, ‘I’m not worthy.’

* * *

He had no answer for why he pulled away, or even clear knowledge as to what exactly he was retreating from. Everything inside of him screamed to advance, and yet, he now found himself seated behind the girl puzzled by why he surrendered their touch. On top of that, he had obviously and unintentionally frightened her in some way despite her insistence otherwise. Why else would she cry? 

It seemed she would still cry, he acknowledged as he stared at her half-turned, glistening gaze. His mind began to swarm with theories and solutions. Every book he ever read flipped through his mind at frantic speeds as he struggled to find a way to remedy her distress. 

Her voice ripped him from his calculations. “Supreme Leader?”

“Yes?”

“Do—do you want to play gungi? We haven’t finished our game.”

She was correct. They had not finished, and he had not even told her what he found in the tri-mirror vanity he was skimming through earlier. It was an item that now rested beside them on the floor.

“It can be momentarily set aside,” he assured her, his tone gentle and thoughtful. “I brought you something.”

A small smile began to dance on her pink lips. He found himself smiling in return, happy that he somehow managed a cure for her despondence.

“It occurred to me while you bathed,” he explained, now spirited by her favorable response. “You have several knots binding your hair. This is uncomfortable, is it not?”

She laughed nervously, immediately raising her hands up in an embarrassing attempt to shield his view from her tangled mane. 

Without an answer, he continued, “I could…remedy this annoyance.”

Her eyes bulged as her body began to recoil. A wail of protests erupted. “N—n—noooo! You couldn’t Your Majesty. You’ve already done too much and I’m not worthy! It’s benea—”

“It pleases me,” he interjected, immediately halting her hurried pleads.

She seemed taken by surprise as her posture softened and she, perhaps unknowingly, shifted closer to his warmth. “No one has ever offered to do that for me.”

“Then,” he paused, gently stroking her soft, snow-white tresses, “let me be the first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More random thoughts: How does Meruem do with surviving underwater? I'm calling BS on his "pinnacle of evolution" claims if he can't swim deep and spearfish our girl Komugi a fresh and rare seafood dinner. 
> 
> Seriously though, I would lose my insolent head in like the first five minutes of meeting Meruem XD 
> 
> Thank you for reading!! I hope you all enjoyed this. More to come <3


	8. Shifting Limits

“You can’t _always_ brazenly advance,” Komugi chided him, “It lets me read ahead too much.”

“Feh,” the King scoffed back, “I hate being passive.”

It was not like the King to sit idly by. At least, he did not think it was. In gungi, he found himself immersed and consumed, constantly attempting to outmaneuver the world champion. In his daily life, however, the King had not noticed that he was, indeed, becoming passive, especially when it came to his royal responsibilities.

Since the addition of this new woman, the King had isolated himself there in the dining room, away from the constant guidance of his three Royal Guards. And now, with the Selection impending, his guards had been forced to make moves on his behalf.

Pouf was growing more and more concerned as he left the presence of the King, an order barked at him after he had tried desperately to sway his Lord’s attention towards the Selection and away from this nonsense that was gungi. 

‘This woman is too distracting,’ he thought, ‘and this board game is inconsequential when considering the overall destiny of our great King.’

In addition, the King was now letting this detestable human listen while they discussed military matters! Pouf surmised she was dim-witted and probably unable to follow his metaphors and implications, but it was still the principle of it all. Humans are scum, trash beneath ants, and their ears should never be privy to such valued intel. It was bad enough the King made him clean and press the creature’s filthy rags the night before, but this… _this_ was sickening. Pouf was nearly sure of it now; the King had taken in a stray and this pet would continue to irritate the butterfly chimera to no end. 

* * *

Komugi continued to play, her hands enjoying the crisp, clean feel of her now blood-free outfit. When Sir Pouf had delivered it, she was almost sad to take off the silky nightgown Ser Pitou previously provided. Of course, maybe the frock was not as nice as she had thought. After all, when she opened the door for Sir Pouf, he wailed in disgusted sobs. He was so strange. He just kept crying as he fled down the hall. She even, bizarrely, heard a violin accompaniment to his tortured cries. Was she really _that_ ugly?

She had missed the Supreme Leader last night. It was hard to sleep as she kept thinking about the way he so kindly brushed her hair. There were so many knots and yet he did not complain or insult her as he tediously worked to free her from each nested binding. For ease in playing gungi, she had still bound her hair into two twin pigtails, but she was happily anticipating the next time she could run her fingers through her loose tresses again. 

She thought back to the night before, when she had laid there in bed alone, her fingers combing through the strands the way Dear Leader’s had. She had shut her eyes and imagined he was still there and that she could still feel his gentle touch. He was far too kind to her. 

“You seem distracted.”

“I’m okay Dear Leader. Just hungry.”

She heard many gungi pieces fall, her opponent dropping them onto the wooden board. They clattered, a familiar sound for Grand Master Komugi to hear. She, in turn, united both his army of 38 and her own, gently placing her claimed and unplaced pieces atop the others.

“That’s game anyway,” he conceded. “Would you desire a meal brought to you?”

Komugi twisted a bit on her cushion, slightly shy to ask what was on her mind. Still, Dear Leader had been so kind yesterday and today was so warm. She decided to be a bit brave.

“Do—do you think we could…and, I know I have no right to ask anything of you Supreme Leader…but, maybe, do you think we could eat outside where we can feel the sun?”

The King paused, reflecting upon her request. “Are you asking me for a picnic?” the ant bluntly responded.

Komugi flushed, her cheeks full and pink. “Um…is that…is that o—okay?” She shyly raised her head to meet where she assumed his gaze would be. Several moments passed before she would hear her answer.

“Very well,” he granted in a tone warmer than she had expected. 

Her smile beamed wide and she thanked him. She had not eaten outside in almost a week now and she missed it greatly. Back on the farm, she used to take a bit of bread and sit by the fields some evenings. It was so peaceful there amongst the softly strumming crickets and whispering breeze that murmured through the wheat. She was always alone, though, with just her thoughts pondering over things like what stars must look like and how “twinkling” was a word that sounded like magic. It would truly be amazing to sit outside and eat with someone else, especially Dear Leader.

“I will have it arranged,” the King continued. “Take a short break. I will summon you.”

“I can keep playing, Your Majesty!” she blurted out in response. She did not want to be separated.

“I have matters to attend to.”

Komugi squirmed and felt a bit nervous. She pondered. ‘Did I say something wrong?’ It seemed sudden, especially since the Supreme Leader sounded so intent on playing a lot today.

“O—okay,” she replied. “I will just be in my room then.”

She stood once she heard him exit the room, and began the journey back to her place of rest. She had barely begun walking down the corridor when she was unexpectedly greeted by a very curious Pitou. 

“H—hello, Ser Pitou!” Komugi stammered, straining to pinpoint the woman’s location.

“Where are you going?” the cat chimera purred. 

“Oh, well, the Supreme Leader told me to take a short break before the picnic, and—”

Pitou’s ears perked up, a toothy smile lighting up her face. “Picnic?” she exclaimed.

Komugi nodded, feeling nervous but unsure why.

“I think we need to go this way,” she happily chirped, hurriedly dragging the small blonde in the opposite direction. 

Pitou had an idea.

* * *

The King was frustrated. He could not get the woman to leave his thoughts, and it was beginning to distress him. All he wanted to do was be with _her_ , touch _her_ , and see _her_ smile. If she wanted it, he was almost certain he would do it, and that realization was becoming a serious problem. 

‘ _She is_ _just_ _a human_ ,’ he snarled in his mind, his tail slashing against a nearby table, splitting it in two. 

He crashed upon his ornate throne in a huff, his arms folding across his chest as he tried to comprehend his confused rage. Why was she even so intriguing to him? Was he not a being superior to all others in every conceivable way? Why did she _, a_ _human_ , seem to have such great influence upon him?

More importantly, was it truly something he disliked?

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with my story and going on this journey with me! So happy I'm meeting many of you, and I hope I get to meet more awesome, creative people on here. Don't be shy! Unlike Meruem, I don't bite <3


	9. Curiosity & the Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to know if you've gone absolutely mad:  
> You drag out the manga and look in every panel until you're absolutely sure there's a tree under which a promising picnic could be held.  
> 

Pouf wailed in anguish as he placed an apple in the large, woven basket. This was a disaster of the highest magnitude! His King was taking that _girl_ on a picnic? Such a thing could never happen! How could he even bear to be near her so often with all her snot and squeals and absolutely distasteful mannerisms? _Was the King losing his mind?_

Pouf gasped, an elegant hand clutching at his chest while the other silenced his insolent mouth. ‘No,’ he reminded himself, ‘the King commanded that aggravating gungi game be brought there, as well. None of this is for _her_. It’s obvious that the King merely wanted fresh air while he defeats the champion. Yes, that’s it! It’s probably insufferable being in an enclosed space with that appalling woman day after day.’ Twirling gracefully, he threw his arms into the air, realizing he was simply an incompetent fool who misunderstood his superb King. 

Meanwhile, Youpi watched on befuddled, happy that there was no violin anywhere to be seen.

* * *

“Ser Pitou, wh—where are we going?”

Pitou abruptly stopped, and Komugi, whom she had been dragging by the wrist, crashed against her in klutzy hops. The cat chimera, of course, did not budge at the pathetic impact. 

“I found this the other day,” Pitou began, “It’s like a closet but it’s _bigger_!”

What Pitou had found was the props and costuming room once used by the, now _very_ deceased, palace dancers. Every wall was filled with long, metal racks and each rack was lined front-to-back with colorful garments. Tucked away in the back corner, there were even some rather unique items that Pitou had found…questionable.

“Umm, what do you mean Ser Pitou?” Komugi said in a voice ripe with tremors.

Pitou looked at the small woman, unable to believe she was not understanding. “What I _mean_ is that I get to dress you up! Nyah.”

Komugi had liked the last outfit, and much to her secret pleasure, it seemed the Supreme Leader had, too. Still, she had her everyday clothes back. It seemed silly to wear anything else now that there was no need. Plus, Komugi surmised that Pitou obviously did not own these outfits, and therefore, they would be stealing. She knew better than to commit an offense so often punished with maiming.

Pitou didn't even acknowledge the woman’s palpable uneasiness. Instead, she began perusing the many racks and chaotically tossing items about that either fell from hangers or were just too homely to even consider. Then, in the middle of many pink vestments, she found _it_. She knew immediately that _this_ was the dress her King would praise, and she was determined to have the human wearing it when she arrived at that picnic. 

“This one!” the cat cheered, her tail curling from excitement. 

“It's not mine,” Komugi softly chirped back. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, however, she added, “…and I’m—I’m sure it’s beautiful Ser Pitou, but it would be a waste on me. I—I can’t even admire it.”

Pitou raised a finger to her chin, confusion obviously overtaking her. Who cares if the blind girl can see the dress? This is not about _her_. This is about _the King_!

“His Majesty will like it." She watched as the girl seemed to volley the idea within her mind, hesitant of what to do. 

‘Well,’ Komugi silently reasoned, ‘I guess we are just _borrowing_ it.’ Still, something about this encounter did not feel appropriate. What if the owner of the dress found out she had taken it? This was not an inconsequential decision, in the least. Still, Ser Pitou thinks the Supreme Leader would like it, and surely with his approval all would be forgiven, right?

Finally, and with heaping uncertainty, Komugi nodded in acceptance.

Pitou wasted no time to pounce.

* * *

Beside a tree that was surprisingly not comprised of clustered, cocooned humans, Pouf had readied a spectacular picnic. He was not particularly happy that the human would get to indulge in his superior work, but he was thrilled that the King might take notice of his remarkable talents. That would be, in Pouf’s mind, the greatest of honors.

Youpi sat a bottle down beside the open basket. In a frustrated puff, Pouf had told him to grab the girl _any_ drink in the kitchen. Whether she liked the beverage or not, was irrelevant. Youpi had opted for a tall, corked bottle that appeared to have some sort of red liquid inside. He looked for no other substitute, knowing well that humans like fruit juice.

The King arrived at the tree, irritated and contemplating why Pitou was not at her post. Nonetheless, her En was still active and in place. She must be close.

“Sire,” Pouf sang while bowing deeply, “everything you asked for has been done. As your humble servants it was an honor to—”

“Where is the girl?” the King gnarled, his eyes narrowing at the two Royal Guards. “Did I _not_ say to have her here?” 

Pouf was frozen, his skin a sickly white and his jaw unhinged in a look that dripped with undiluted dread. It was not because of the King’s words, however. No, this disgusted terror was born of something else.

Youpi, noticing Pouf’s strange behavior, spoke in his stead. “She’s there,” he unceremoniously stated, his finger casually pointing to behind the King.

The King’s frustration melted the moment his gaze fell upon her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Random Thoughts - Manga Edition:  
> Why did Meruem have a vest but no underwear when he was born? Was that the consequence he suffered when bursting out of his mother prematurely? Also, why did he suddenly decide a codpiece was necessary halfway through a manic monologue about violence being the ultimate force in the world? Maybe it's a representation of him becoming more human...or maybe penile sheaths just aren't fun to draw after a while. These questions keep me awake at night.  
> _______
> 
> Thanks for reading! More coming soon, and I greatly appreciate all of you. Feel free to leave a comment. Conversing with all of you is my favorite part of this whole experience <3


	10. Ant at a Picnic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amazing art in this chapter was created by FrenchUnicorn! My friend surprised me with the first illustration you'll see and both the art and her kindness melted my heart :'(  
> I can't get over the absolute talent possessed by this incredible artist! 
> 
> Also, the dress found in this chapter was designed by FrenchUnicorn, too! It was inspired by the sketch at the end <3 
> 
> Please support FrenchUnicorn:  
> <https://twitter.com/LeFrenchUnicorn>
> 
> **Art is important.**

The sunlight fell and glistened from two round buttons that adorned her chest and waist, the bounced pin-point lights dancing against the tall, shaded tree where the King stood watching. He felt entranced, unable to pry his gaze from the rose-colored skirt, puffed up by bountiful petticoats like a meringue cupcake ready to taste. Her hair was down, exactly like it had been the night before when he diligently finessed every knot from her tresses, but now, she wore a thin, black headband. Near her ear, a perfect bow sweetly perched upon the accessory, accentuating the silvery shade of her now-tamed mane.

She was smiling despite Pitou dragging her in tow. Luckily, the chimera had opted to forego the tall, satin heels she had originally found and tossed at the petite girl. The Royal Guard, in the end, had deemed them inappropriate for the long walk to the tree, and had it not been for that decision, Komugi surely would have fallen in embarrassment by now. Besides, while she was positive the tall heels were undoubtedly beautiful, Komugi loved this second pair. These kitten heels were ideal for the beautiful, late-summer weather with their dainty buckles that fastened securely around each ankle. Pitou had even given her the softest socks to wear underneath, each hem trimmed in elegant lace!

Komugi felt the warm air grow slightly cooler as they entered the tree’s ample shade. She silently hoped that the Supreme Leader would not laugh at how she was dressed. Pitou was absolute in her decision, but Komugi had a few apprehensions concerning the petticoats. At least, she thought in compromise, the cut seemed modest. 

Despite her reservations, Komugi felt pretty. There was no other way to describe it. Even if His Majesty did not like the look, she adored the feel of it. Her sleeves were long despite the warm weather, but she did not feel overheated, and the vest that held her buttoned shirt in tuck made her feel secure. She had been told it was pink, and that the rosy shade is _obviously_ her color, but that was a compliment she had little use for. All she really wanted to hear was that Dear Leader found it beautiful.

“Leave us,” the King commanded, his voice too soft and distant for Pouf’s liking. Nevertheless, he and the other Royal Guards obeyed and began their trek back to the palace.

Now, alone with the King, Komugi awkwardly stood with her hands absentmindedly fluffing her full skirt. She never knew what to do when the Supreme Leader was quiet like this.

She decided to break the silence herself, “S—Ser Pitou said I should wear this. I don’t really know if it’s nice to look at, but it feels nice. I hope you’re not upset.”

Her closed eyes made her look so innocent in all that adorable finery. The King admired it greatly, although, he did not quite have the words to fully explain that to her in a way she would prefer. Words like “beautiful” and “pretty” were human constructs and not necessary for him to understand. Much like Komugi could not fully understand what made a man “handsome,” the King struggled to truly realize when he admired something for its physicality, especially in the case of this woman. A physical being which he did, in fact, find himself favoring.

And so, because he did not understand which words to use, he spoke the only truth he knew. “It pleases me.”

This compliment, Komugi decided, was enough. Her cheeks turned a hue akin to her dress and her crystal-blue eyes fluttered open. The King decided, in that very moment, it pleased him even more than he had previously thought.

Komugi hummed, an attempt to, once again, quell the silence. Biting her lower lip nervously, she meekly spoke, “Are—are we close to the picnic, Dear Leader?”

The King’s mind synced with real time, his gaze tearing free of the deep maroon bow that tied at the girl’s collar. “We are,” he replied, adding, “allow me.”

She was not sure what he meant at first, but she quickly realized he was helping her navigate to the blanket his Royal Guards had sprawled out earlier. His touch was softer and more cautious than before, as though he thought she might break this time. It made little sense to Komugi, but any touch from Dear Leader was a cherished one. She still had a hard time believing the past few days were not a sweet dream or her blessed afterlife. Either way, she knew she did not deserve this happiness.

* * *

_Amazing gift[FrenchUnicorn](https://twitter.com/LeFrenchUnicorn) created for this story. I am IN LOVE._

The King watched her eat, now the second time he had done such a strange thing. She kept speaking but it was hard for him to focus. Repeatedly, he found himself tracing all her features, his memory committing the precious data to some deep vault within his mind. Something about her seemed different. Different, but not bad. No, this was something good, and the reason why stubbornly and annoyingly eluded him. 

“I think there’s something on me…umm, maybe?”

The King focused on where her blank gaze was suggesting. There, crawling about her delicate hand, was nothing more than a small ant. “It is but an ant. Let me remove it.”

The King moved to touch her hand but paused as she pulled away, her other hand shielding the little bug from his view. He looked up at her face and found her expression worried. Her thick brows were bunched, and her soft, pink pout had locked. The reaction seemed peculiar and baffled him.

“Are you going to _kill_ it?” Komugi asked, her hand still forming a protective hollow for the tiny insect. 

“Would that displease you?”

“Yes,” she hastily shot back, “It isn’t hurting me, and it deserves to live.”

 _‘Deserves_ _to live_?’ The idea sounded like a lunatic’s babbling to him. This creature was tiny and lacking any strength to oppose him. It would not even be able to fight off a small sparrow or a beetle slightly larger than itself. This one, lone ant was nothing compared to him. All life is nothing when compared to his evolutionary perfection. 

“I will not hurt it. I give you my word.” His promise, he felt, came out of nowhere. Why did he agree to such a pointless thing? 

Komugi cautiously returned to her relaxed position. Holding out her hand, she waited. The King kept his promise, taking the small, insignificant creature onto his powerful, outstretched finger and, with great care, placing it into the tall grass surrounding the striped blanket beneath them.

He turned to find the girl smiling warmly back at him. “We have gungi. Would you care to play me?”

Her smile lit up, and he realized the question was foolish.  
  


* * *

_The beautiful sketch by[FrenchUnicorn](https://twitter.com/LeFrenchUnicorn) that inspired the dress (*_*)_

She enjoyed this. Gungi and a picnic. The dream just kept getting more delicious, and for a second, she wondered if her luck had finally turned for the better. She chastised herself, reminding her heart that the Supreme Leader was just being a kind ruler. This, too, would all come to an end when he tired of her or gungi. Everyone always tired of her. Always.

Their starting configuration had now been set. 20 pieces for black and 23 for white. White goes first, but she had a need before they could begin. “Dear Leader?” she nervously buzzed, “Is there something here to drink?”

The King paused a moment, reflecting upon the fact humans need water constantly. Could their bodies be any more flawed than they already are? They should have evolved ways to avoid these constant needs in case of drought or injury. Rubbish. 

“There is,” he replied, noticing the bottle Youpi left. He took the vessel in his hand, his tail darting forward and pulling the cork in one graceful stroke. He was not sure what the liquid was, but certainly it would not be toxic, and therefore, should suffice. He firmly placed the open bottle in the short blonde’s hand, pleased with himself for solving her want.

“Thank you, Dear Leader,” she beamed before taking a large sip. Her eyes bulged as she realized it was a bottle of wine.

“Is something wrong?”

She panicked. What should she say? She knew it was rude to complain about the things you are so graciously given, and she surely did not wish to upset the Supreme Leader with her complaining. So, accepting her situation, she swallowed another swig and sweetly cooed, “I just didn’t expect it to be so sweet. Thank you for your generosity, Your Majesty!”

The King grinned. Everything seemed to be going well.  
  


* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to check out FrenchUnicorn's fantastic work, please:  
> https://twitter.com/LeFrenchUnicorn
> 
> And in other #merumugi #merukomu art news: My awesome friend Dukekitty has created a new story! It would be wonderful if you could visit and experience his beautiful writing.  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25614796
> 
> Thank you all for your comments and support! I sincerely love having these conversations with each of you. You have all made my life much brighter, and it is an honor to know I have entertained so many of you with this story <3


	11. Liquid Courage

“This is sooooo good!” Komugi praised, taking another bite of the decadent cherry tart. She happily bounced as she continued to move gungi pieces between mouthfuls. Her belly felt warm and her head felt slightly dizzy, but not in an unpleasant way. This feeling was comforting, and like being bound in a fuzzy, plush blanket. 

The King watched the girl blissfully giggle, a noticeable change in her demeanor. She had even knocked over a plate of fruit earlier and instead of wailing cries and incessant pleads for forgiveness, she had just snickered and mumbled a simple, passing apology. Something was amiss.

“Try this,” Komugi gushed, extending the half-eaten tart towards the Supreme Leader.

The King recoiled a bit, surprised by how brazen the girl was being. He looked at the pastry and felt his stomach churn in disgust. _Absolutely not_.

“I’m not hungry.”

Komugi let out an exasperated groan. He was _never_ hungry! Not once had he shared a meal with her. She assumed it was because royals never eat with peasants who are so obviously beneath them. Still, this treat was delicious, and he had yet to even try any of Sir Pouf’s picnic creations. She decided, in that seemingly vital moment, that the Supreme Leader _needed_ to have a bite. _At least_ a small nibble.

Confused, the King’s eyes widened as he saw the small, barefooted woman stand. She swayed a bit before fluffing her snow-white fringe away from her open, yet useless eyes. Giggling, she began to take a wobbly step. The moment her toes pressed against the blanket, she seemed to lose all balance, crashing down in a chaotic tumble.

But he caught her. 

Now, she rested safely in his arms, her body draped against him as she continued to sweetly laugh. He was _sure_ something outlandish was happening. The only question was: _what_?

He eyed the picnic spread intently, attempting to search out which dish must be causing her eccentric state. Komugi, meanwhile, steadied herself enough to kneel in front of him, tucked between the spread of his legs. Once again, she offered him her cherry tart.

“I will _not_ repeat myself,” he snapped in irritation, his eyes still scanning. Seeing the half-empty bottle of crimson liquid sitting near the gungi board, he smirked confidently. His tail quickly snapped up the vessel, coiling around its cylindrical form. Bringing it to his nose, he inhaled. It seems there was _indeed_ something toxic at their picnic, after all. He flung the bottle in disgust, the glass shattering against the thick trunk of the nearby tree.

Komugi yelped at the sudden sound, unsure of what happened. She was sure they were the only two there, and she could feel Dear Leader’s hands as they steadied her waist, so he plainly had not caused the shattering noise. 

“W—what was that?”

“Nothing of concern,” he flatly assured the quivering maiden.

Eyeing the young blonde, the King wondered what to do. She cannot keep behaving like this or she will wind up needing the aid of Pitou. Still, he decided he liked her this way, too. Her face was constantly flushed with that fetching color he so decidedly favored. Besides, this odd state appeared to make her much more accommodating to his wandering touch. ‘Perhaps,’ he pondered, ‘it may be beneficial to take advantage of her rare malady.’

He sighed in reconsideration and thought better of it. “How do you feel?”

“I’m fine, Dear Leader!” she reported with a playful smile. 

“What did you drink?”

“Ehh? What do you mean, Your Majesty, Sir?”

“The bottle.”

“Oh! Did I drink too much of the wine?” Her expression twisted into shame as she slightly turned away. “I’m very sorry for my selfishness, Your Majesty.”

 _Wine_. He should have known. He had read that humans often feel the need to inebriate themselves with fermented concoctions. In addition, they had been known to do all manner of imbecilic deeds while under the beverage’s influence. Once again, humans proved illogical, and in his opinion, rather stupid.

The woman seemed to sound more like herself in these past few moments, but the King could not say it brought him either comfort or satisfaction. She appeared upset now, and he wondered if he had, yet again, inspired the painful emotion. Pondering how to lighten her mood, his eyes came to rest on that half-eaten cherry tart. He sighed in displeasure, unsure why he was even considering his next action.

“Let me sample this confection,” he grumbled through his teeth.

Komugi lit up, happily holding the treat to where she assumed his face would be. He winced and took a bite.

He was ready to gag and choke down the pastry, expecting it to be sickeningly sweet. Instead, the ant froze in disbelief. It was _not_ bad. Actually, it tasted somewhat palatable! It was not anything close to the delectable flavor of a rare human, but it did have some charm, and there are, indeed, humans whose taste is far more repulsive. He continued to chew, staring off into space and pondering if he should sample other human cuisines.

“Let me touch you.”

He stopped mid-chew and his eyes darted over to the woman. “ ** _What_**?”

“I want to _see_ you,” Komugi revealed, intently holding up her delicate palms.

He considered it, genuinely curious what she would think of his superior form. Every human he had encountered cowered at his appearance. He wondered if she would be different, but he also felt a strange worry that she might draw away if she knew his truth. No matter the outcome, the King decided that now was not the appropriate time for experiments and hypothesizes.

“You will not.” 

Her smile faded, a look of embarrassed shame and heartbreak taking its place.

He felt his throat tighten as he watched her frown. Without even thinking, he added, “Yet.”

Her faint grin flickered to life, and he found himself content. Perhaps, the gungi champion was right. Perhaps, brazenly advancing is not always the correct maneuver.

_Gorgeous artwork by the amazingly talented[ @gnomster_nome](https://twitter.com/gnomster_nome) on Twitter! I **literally** cried.  
Art is incredibly important! Please, if you have Twitter, support her creations <3_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support! It means so much to me that many of you enjoy this tale. I hope that you'll continue to enjoy it <3


	12. To Know Someone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Sexual situations with one short paragraph verging on smut. This is -not- the big, skippable smut chapter. That chapter is 23.

She had fallen asleep beside the gungi board after defeating him repeatedly. Even drunk, Komugi proved to be a far superior strategist. The King realized he still had much progress to make if he ever wished to overthrow her reign.

She did not wake as he lifted her into his arms or as he climbed the many stone steps up to her chambers. The only sound she made was a garbled, gentle coo as he laid her on the bed and tucked the blanket around her for warmth. She seemed, he thought, peaceful in her rest.

The King had not been as tranquil. After leaving the girl to dream, he had summoned both Pouf and Youpi to the throne room. Ultimately, he found himself convinced the two imbeciles sincerely had not realized the “fruit juice” was something humans used for recreational intoxication. The urge to swipe their heads from their shoulders was, nevertheless, still tempting.

* * *

> “ _Arnando rolled off her, his breath still heaving from the intensity of their passionate coupling. He looked to Cecilia, his raven-haired goddess, and smiled proudly at her disheveled, fully ravished beauty. A sheen covered her trembling form and her still gasping mouth glistened where his lips and tongue had so thoroughly…”_

The King snapped the azure book shut, his eyes darting as he, once again, confirmed no one was watching. A pile of novels and magazines sat at his side in an unsteady tower, a glossy copy of “Yorknew Gentleman” crowning the impressive collection. His cheeks and the tips of his antennae burned with a new feeling and his body buzzed with tingling electricity. 

‘Humans are _disgusting_.’ That was his thought when he curiously started flipping through the pages of the first book, a green-linen bound manual with gold etching that read “100 Positions: An Illustrated Guide by I. Tenero.” Why were humans so complicated? Couldn’t they do anything quickly and efficiently? Their reproduction rituals were long, sloppy, and filled with seemingly pointless acts between one another. The King had ultimately closed that book finding humans, once again, utterly nonsensical.

That was only one book in a sprawling selection, however. Pouf had supplied these readings over a week ago along with an assortment of various medical tomes. The latter of the two is what first claimed the King’s interest, but now, with the gungi player asleep and nothing else to fill his time, he decided to finally address the literature Pouf deemed “inspirational” for the future of their species. 

Immediate and all-consuming _inspiration_ was not quite the result experienced by the King. There was, however, a small curiosity planted within his mind and that new seed had the potential to grow. He sat the azure book down, “Darkness Beyond: An Erotic Anthology,” and wondered if the girl would soon wake.

* * *

Komugi awoke a bit disoriented and groggy. She felt as though a fragment of her life were missing, and in its place, a strange dream was left behind. A vision without sight in which she and the Supreme Leader sat beneath a tree, a woven blanket beneath their forms, and he told her what colors felt like. He did not seem completely sure himself as he eloquently reflected upon the “serene calmness of blue” and the “rich, royal influence of purple.” As he traced her fingers with his own, he told her white was “pure and requires careful handling” while black “consumes all like a starved beast.” He had no description for green aside from “possessive,” a detail Komugi found odd. 

How had she come to be in her room? Had she found her own way here or, perhaps, did one of the guards escort her? She sighed, realizing that her hope to find His Majesty sitting near her was in vain. She seemed to truly be alone, as she knew she would always be in the end. 

She still wore the poufy dress Ser Pitou had acquired for her. A laugh escaped her bright smile and she pushed firmly down on a protruding mountain the garment’s mass created beneath the blanket. Her sisters would have yearned for a dress like this. Even if she could not admire it with her own sight, Komugi knew it was something fine and elegant. It was the sort of outfit a family of wheat farmers would never be able to afford. Not even she would be able to buy herself such a luxury with gungi winnings. Be it the farm or Komugi, _wheat_ would always pay for the family first. In this, there was no choice.

Komugi smiled as she heard the door slowly begin to creak open. With bated breath she longed to hear the deep, soothing voice of Dear Leader, one of the only voices that ever made her feel happy, and absolutely the only one to make her feel safe. 

“I see you have awoken.”

Komugi felt her heart swell, tiny pulses jumping from nerve to nerve throughout her body. The Supreme Leader is here! 

She bowed while seated on the bed, welcoming His Majesty with a smile far too wide to conceal her admiration and joy. The King found himself somewhat dizzy as he gazed at her petite, grinning face.

He came to rest at the side of her bed, leaning against the baseboard while his tail waved to and fro in the air. She looked so small there in that giant bed. He remembered her, seated in that very spot, attempting to eat pudding with her fingers. He audibly snickered.

“Is so—something wrong, Dear Leader?”

“Everything is as it should be,” he answered back, truly believing his own comforting words.

Komugi fidgeted with the buttons of her dress, unsure what to say and unsure what he meant. His Majesty was often difficult to understand. 

“Did you want to play gungi, Supreme Leader, Sir?”

“Perhaps,” he began, his finger tracing the knotted wood of the bedpost. “How do you feel?”

“Oh, much better now, Your Majesty! I’m sorry I was a fool and drank so much of your wine! I hope I didn’t embarrass you and I hope you’ll forgive me!”

“There is nothing to forgive,” the King calmly returned, causing the girl to beam. “Do you remember anything of our encounter?”

Komugi paused, reflecting on her dream but quickly dismissing it as fantasy. Instead, she happily chirped, “I remember so much, Dear Leader! It was such an honor to spend time with you!”

The King softly sighed. It seemed that the girl did not remember her request to touch him, and if she had, she was not taking the chance to bring it up now. That, for some reason, caused a sharp pang in the King's chest. 

“I have been reading in my quarters.”

Komugi sat up straight and opened her eyes to the Supreme Leader, letting him know she was listening. “What were you reading?”

“That is not of your concern,” the King quickly shot back, a flash of his sensual readings racing through his mind. He noticed her wince and continued, “I mean that upon completing my…research, I found a book that might be of interest to you.”

“Oh,” Komugi sighed, “I can’t really read a book.” Her sadness was palpable. 

“I expect not,” the King replied, lifting himself onto the bed alongside the girl. She immediately froze as she felt his warmth near her. “Would reading it aloud please you?”

Komugi immediately relaxed and leaned towards the King, her body language eagerly welcoming his presence. “Very much so, Dear Leader!” Excitement bubbled beneath her skin. This meant the Supreme Leader would speak at length in his resonating, captivating tone.

“Very well.”

The King positioned himself at the head of the bed while the girl moved to rest beside him. She sat there, much like she did while playing gungi, albeit this time swallowed by petticoats and blankets. Her heart swelled in the knowledge someone would read to her. It had been so long since anyone had been kind enough to do such a thing, and that sole storyteller had been dead for quite some time. Once again, His Majesty was bestowing upon her a precious gift and it made her head swim with pleasure.

“What is it about, Dear Leader?”

“You shall see,” he grinned. And with those words, the King opened the old, leather-bound book and began to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the support! You all seriously have no idea what it means to me. This experience has been so beautiful and positive. I've made wonderful friends whom I never would have known otherwise. I love your comments and I love interacting with all of you. I sincerely can not thank all of you enough <3


	13. Temptation & Consequence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone get cozy! Meruem-sama is going to read to us (*_*)

> **_O_** _nce, long ago, there lived a man in a village by the sea. His name was Urashima Taro and he spent his days as a fisherman. He was young and well-liked by all his neighbors, of which all knew Urashima to have a pure and kind heart._
> 
> _One beautiful day, he arrived home and decided to sell his catch within his quaint hometown. The path was not long but was difficult, nonetheless, when carrying such a prized and valuable bounty. Today, you see, was a prosperous one._
> 
> _As he came to a bend in the road, Urashima found three young boys surrounding and tormenting a turtle. He approached the rambunctious youths and asked why they did not wish to instead help the turtle and release it back into its watery home. The children, unaffected by this gentle man’s concern, simply continued to mistreat and poke at the seemingly ancient being._
> 
> _“My catch was grand today,” the fisherman exclaimed, “You may sell it yourselves and take all the money to do with as you please. All I ask is that you let this creature be.”_
> 
> _The children eagerly agreed to Urashima’s request, and then left hastily with fish in hand._

“He’s a kind man like you, Dear Leader,” Komugi chimed in. “That turtle is so lucky to meet him!”

The King paused, the book resting against his folded knee. Looking into the pale blonde’s aquamarine eyes, he contemplated her claim. A strange emotion tinged through him as he reflected upon his absolute unwillingness to do as the fisherman had. The concerns of a suffering turtle were, in his opinion, inconsequential and not worth his time. 

Without speaking, the King continued.

> _**T** he next day, as Urashima was tirelessly fishing at sea, he heard a voice call to him from the calm, tranquil waters. _
> 
> _“Urashima Taro-San, it is I, the turtle you saved yesterday. To repay your kindness I have come to take you to the great and mighty King of the Sea. Come, I will carry you upon my back and we will make haste. Our journey is far and there is much to see!”_
> 
> _And so, Urashima agreed. He climbed upon the turtle’s back and down they went, deep into the darkness of the ocean and away from the often harsh realities of man._
> 
> _In time, the pair came to a massive palace gate made of vibrant coral and guarded by proud swordfish. Beyond this, a sprawling castle greeted the fisherman’s eyes and he nearly wept from its unparalleled beauty._
> 
> _The turtle and the fisherman were greeted by the Sea King and his elegantly dressed daughter, a woman more beautiful than any Urashima had ever seen. They praised him for his kindness and insisted that all the kingdom would now feast and enjoy entertainment in his honor._

****

**“** Do you think the King and Princess are fish people? Like mermaids?”

The King frowned, unsure why she was so curious. “Does it matter how they appear?”

“No,” Komugi replied softly, “I just think that they might be very pretty since fish sound pretty, is all. I guess they aren’t fish, though.”

“Explain.”

Komugi sniffed deeply, her nose badly congested, as usual. “Fish can’t talk or wear clothes.”

“The turtle speaks.” He paused before adding, “Perhaps, creatures like these live all around.”

Komugi laughed at the thought, and the King realized it may be a boon the woman cannot see.

> **_U_** _rashima and the Princess feasted upon the best dishes found in all the seven seas. For their amusement, lobsters strummed the biwa and crabs plucked the koto. A large, powerful octopus joined in, playing the taiko drums to the joy of all._
> 
> _Days came and went, and the fisherman lost time as he dined on delicacies and met creatures both familiar and truly unimaginable. He felt his heart swell with happiness as each day dawned, and yet, as each night fell, he longed for the comforts of his human home above the waves and the people whom he loved._
> 
> _The Princess and the turtle understood the man’s desires and agreed to take him back from whence he came. Overjoyed, the fisherman thanked his beautiful and gracious host for allowing him the joy he had come to know in her kingdom beneath the waves._
> 
> _In turn, the Princess offered Urashima a small, closed box and a promise. “Fisherman, protector of wise turtle, keep this box with you always. So long as you never open its lid, happiness may always be yours.”_
> 
> _The fisherman bowed deeply and promised to keep the box safe and closed for the rest of his days. With that promise, the turtle carried the man back to dry land and bid him a happy and prosperous life._

****

“What a happy ending, Dear Leader!”

“There is more.”

> _**U** rashima, filled with joy and eager to tell everyone of his adventure and the palace found within the sea, rushed into town. He found no one familiar walking the dusty, dirt streets. His family was gone and so were all his friends. By nightfall, the fisherman had come to learn that only the oldest of the community remembered the people whom he loved. Time had passed and all was now different, and yet, for some reason, he was still the same._
> 
> _Unable to return to his life before, the fisherman decided to build a hut by the sands and have his days filled with the sounds of the ocean that gave him such joy. His life went well, and his catches were bountiful, but Urashima grew lonely. A deep sadness overcame him, and he longed for the company of those he had loved but lost._
> 
> _One morning, as he stood beside the water’s edge, the sad and lonely fisherman took out the small, black box the Sea Princess had so kindly bestowed upon him. “Perhaps,” he thought, “the beautiful Princess has left me a bit of happiness in this box.” Ignoring the Princess’s warning, Urashima Taro opened the lid and looked inside._
> 
> _A puff of black smoke billowed from within and was carried away by the chill ocean breeze. When the fisherman looked down at the small box, he found his hands now withered and deeply veined. With pained and difficult movements, Urashima began to slowly walk back to his hut by the sea._
> 
> _A young boy walked along the beach. He watched as a very ancient man with long, white hair and beard struggled to walk away from the ocean’s edge and from the youthful gift his curiosity had caused him to forever lose._

****

The King closed the old collection of folklore, placing it to his side. He looked at the young woman seated beside him, his chest tightening at the sight. She was quietly crying, a few round tears sliding down her porcelain face and falling to the blanket below. Within his chest, he felt a harsh and wrenching pain.

“You cry again,” the King remarked as he placed his hand atop the girl’s. 

Komugi sniffed, deeper this time, and tried to rid her nose of the obstruction. It was always so hard to breathe when she was crying. “I feel bad for Urashima.”

“Why?” the King wondered, “His obedience was lacking. He disobeyed the Princess’s edict, and his consequence I deem just.”

Komugi squirmed, pulling her hand from the King’s firm grasp. She gathered the pillowy blanket snugly around her form, her face and silver hair the only parts left for the King to gaze upon. 

“Did I cause offense?” he probed, longing to reclaim her touch.

Komugi sat there in her bunched-up state with a pensive and frustrated expression. “It’s just…Well, he just wanted to not be lonely. If I had family and friends like that but lost them, I might open the box, too.”

“He had already known his happiness with the Princess. He exchanged one joy for another, and then, the human _still_ wanted more.” The King’s tone had sharpened.

“But…but why give such a kind man something so awful?”

“It was generous to bestow upon him life in the home he so missed, was it not? He should have aged and expired there amongst the fish.”

“It just seems cruel to never tell him what he’d lose.”

“Not all knowledge is _good_ ,” the King swallowed, “and often, a cost must be paid.”

Komugi’s head fell, “I would want to know. Then, I could have at least stayed happy with the Princess.”

The King’s gaze locked upon the girl’s frowning lips and he searched his mind for something reassuring to say. Nothing useful offered itself to him, however, and he momentarily felt lost there, drowning in a dim sea of something he didn't quite recognize as weakness. Why did her sadness bother him so? Why did her tears cause his stomach to twist and ache? She inspired an illness within him. One for which he had yet to find the remedy. 

“I know not what you shall think,” the King began with a heavy sigh, “but if it would quell your sadness, you may know my face.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The nested story in this chapter is an old, Japanese folktale <3
> 
> ________________________
> 
> Thank you all for reading! Things are about to get very intense very soon! I appreciate all of you so much! Thank you again for your time :)


	14. A Trusted Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Sexual themes, may be triggering for individuals with a history of abuse

A stillness stood in the air. There was no movement. No soft, sniffling sobs. Everything hung, as if suspended by time and unable to break the freeze. Komugi sat there, eyes wide and yet unable to see his uneasy expression as he waited for her response. She inhaled a crackling breath, finally birthing sound into the void.

“Su—su—Supreme Leader, it’s okay. I’m not really worthy of…t—touching you.”

The King raised his gaze and probed within the woman’s ice-blue orbs, watching as the tears seemed to melt and pool against the frosty bergs of each iris. Her pout trembled and her cheeks glistened, slick with the wet remnants of tears long passed. She looked so fragile there, staring and yet unable to truly know her surroundings at all. He swallowed, wondering if this would be a grave error on his part, and yet, unable to deny her if it was truly something she wanted. These feelings were all too strange, and, at times, seemed as though they belonged to someone else entirely.

“It is no longer your want?”

“N—n—n—No, Your M—Majesty. I still want to know what you look like.”

“Then you should come closer, should you not?” He felt his skin tighten around his neck as a disorienting buzz began to envelop his face. His breathing slowed and began to swell within his chest anxiously. “Or would you rather deny my kindness and surrender this gift?”

Komugi’s heart roared, the palpitations growing stronger as she began to move in the direction of the Supreme Leader. She paused, feeling him instead shift and advance closer to her, his legs coming to rest on either side of her form and his hands firmly landing upon her waist before drawing her near. She came to kneel upon her knees in front of him, her petticoats wildly fluffing about the curves of his thighs. 

His steady hands pulled away from the early swell of her hips and she felt lost there, suspended in a deep hollow of uncertainty, all the while wondering what to do with her quaking palms. It was not long, however, before she felt his rough, solid fingers wrap themselves around her fragile wrists and gently pull her near.

Her fingertips came to touch something smooth and with slightly less give than the soft skin she had expected. She wondered what this could possibly be, only receiving her answer as he began to whisper in a low, sensual taunt that made her ears purr with pleasure.

“Touch. Me.”

Komugi shivered as her wrists were calmly released. With trembling digits, she held her hands in place, finally realizing that she had been brushing against his cheeks. As he spoke, she could feel his flesh move, her index fingers unmistakably close to his mouth as it articulated each syllable in that hauntingly carnal tone. She swallowed hard at the realization and an uneasiness teased her mind.

She knew this velvety-smooth texture must be skin. Why then, did this composition feel unnervingly like the armor that adorns his gloves? She reflected upon him only having four digits per hand, a quality she had assumed the result of an accident in battle. Now, she was unsure. Something was strange about Dear Leader, and she craved the reason.

Becoming more daring as the seconds passed, Komugi indulged her hunger and brought her hands to settle more firmly upon his flesh. She began to haltingly slide the pads of each finger higher, admiring the curve of what must be gracefully formed cheekbones. Each ridge swelled in a pleasant arc that ended with her fingertips awkwardly sliding against his lush lower lashes. They felt delicate and more familiar to her senses than the rest. She felt his eyes immediately flitter shut in anticipation of her continued exploration.

With greater care, she hovered above each closed eye; the dermis more delicate now as it lightly brushed against her own pale skin, his dense lashes softly kissing her flesh as each digit roamed by in ethereal strokes. She reached the ridge of each brow and found them to be a perfect guide towards the bridge of his nose. With her right hand she began to drag along the dorsum until she felt the tip softly begin to elegantly slope forward. Her left hand moved to feel curiously along the side. As all her fingers met, she felt her skin ignite, knowing well what she would feel next.

She sensed his mouth quiver as her fingertips stroked against the silky, supple flesh. A jolt of power shot through her entire frame and her hands twitched at the tingling rush. His Majesty’s expression was relaxed, and she found herself gently pulling the lower lip open, her fingertips just barely sliding into the warmth of his mouth. She trembled at the wetness softly glazing the tip of each finger, her mind beginning to swim in a strange euphoria. She struggled to inhale there beneath the lusty, suffocating waters.

She lingered there a bit longer than she had everywhere else, and the King took notice. His flesh had been sizzling since the moment she began to travel up his cheekbones. Now, with her frail hands touching his gently parted mouth, he found himself consumed with a hunger he was not sure how to appease. He questioned if he longed to eat the young woman, to rip her meat from the bone and sinfully savor all her sticky, sweet juices, but the solution did not feel ideal. No, he did not yearn to devour her flesh, but he was becoming acutely aware of a thirst to be one with her in some desperate way.

“Is that _all_ you wish to know of me?”

Komugi hesitated against the shifting of his words. Her middle finger had been tracing the bow of his lips, each stroke slick from saliva. “What am I allowed to touch, Dear Leader?” The words shook as she withdrew her hands.

She felt his body shift closer, one leg bending around her seated form as the other came to rest beside her shoulder, the knee now an armrest for the King. Komugi gasped as she felt his own fingertips slide sensually through her hair. Eyes bolting open, she startled at the fierce rush it inspired.

In an impossibly deep voice she heard him coo, “ _Anything_ you desire.”

Komugi began to panic. In quick, fleeting movements she attempted to back away from the King, her eyes widening in primal, animalistic fear. “I—I—I c—can’t.” She found herself locked in place by the Supreme Leader’s arm, or at least what she assumed the binding appendage to be.

The King immediately began to assess his actions. He had done something wrong, but he could not surmise what. Why was the girl suddenly so terrified? Had he said the wrong thing? _She_ had been the one to ask to touch him. Why would she fear that touch now?

“What inspires this?” The King’s voice was tinged in worry, a sound not lost upon the fearful Komugi. She found herself stilling in place, surprised by the Supreme Leader’s unfamiliar tone.

The fear in her eyes began to subside and something else painfully took its place: shame.

“I’m—I’m sorry Supreme Leader,” she began, “I just…I’m not…”

“Tell me.”

“No man has ever let me touch them like this. I don’t…I don’t really like to be touched by...”

The King immediately withdrew his hands from the girl and leaned back, releasing her form.

“No,” she pleaded, “I don’t mind if _you_ touch me, Supreme Leader. You’re different from the others.”

A storm of dread drenched the King’s mind upon hearing those words. A thick lump formed in his tightened throat and a white-hot surge engulphed his senses. The feeling was something akin to anger but with a gnawing bitterness that caused his expression to twist and his lips to snarl against his slickened fangs. “Explain these… _’ **others**_.”

Komugi looked ready to sob. She twisted the fluffed skirt of her dress between her hands as her lower lip trembled. Like a captured doe, her unseeing eyes darted around the room, instinctually searching for a way to escape. The air around her was so thick and frightfully intimidating. She could choke on the palpable slurry of violently visceral vibes.

The King, watching her skittish display, found his wildfire of emotion beginning to somewhat dim. Something about this woman so desperately searching for escape made him feel sick and even a bit resentful. Placing that odd mix of simmering rage and genuine concern to the side, however, the King sought to console the cornered animal before him. “Fear not,” he attempted to assure her, his boiled breath still fuming through his nostrils like a dragon’s flame ready to burst. The tone was grievously less than convincing. “Now…I _won’t_ repeat myself.”

Komugi shuttered but resolved to push through the terror of emotions, feeling there were no other options. “I…I wasn’t always a world champion at gungi, D—Dear Leader, Sir.” She paused here, obviously considering what she was about to say. “I wasn’t worth anything before that a—and I still needed to earn my keep and…” Her eyes began to well and overflow with stinging tears. “…And my father…my father, he…it only happened a few times but…he…and I couldn’t see them…and…”

The King felt a molten surge plunge throughout his veins. His eyes fiery hot, his upper lip began to quake against his teeth in even more unstable patterns than before. A near uncontrollable need to end something or someone’s life swelled within his chest as he felt his heart erupt and overflow, the rage singeing his flesh as it grew heated and tight. Finally, an emotion and desire he could fully understand.

Yet, despite this torrent of animosity, the King, using every ounce of his control, still managed to reach out and grasp her small hand in his own, squeezing it reassuringly. 

Komugi felt the genuine, solid clasp of his fingers wrapping around her palm. In that moment, something unexpected burst from the parched soils of her heart. She was terrified, but this was the first time she truly felt not alone in her fear. This newly sprouted reality felt more comforting than anything in her past, and it strangely stilled her fear, knowing that it was not her whom he was so enraged with. No, His Majesty was incensed with revulsion towards her abusers. Why was this man so much kinder than the ones who burned her hope and happiness to ashes?

“Dear Leader,” she began, her voice shaking, “do you think we could ta—talk about something else?”

“As you wish, but you will answer one final inquiry.” His grasp was still tightly bound to her palm.

Komugi nodded, accepting the task.

“This atrocity that transpired against you…do you fear this same barbarity from me?”

Komugi’s eyes widened, painted bright by shock. “N—n—No Dear Leader! You aren’t anything like those men! You’re the most kind man I’ve ever met!” 

The King’s eyes narrowed as he fully came to process what the frail woman was unable to say. There were reasons he hated that repugnant swine Bizeff. Humans, it seemed, had no allegiance to their own. Their need for self-gratification often led them down truly dishonorable paths.

He felt his stomach twist into a knot as a burning mass strangled his throat from within. Why do humans commit such animalistic acts? Killing is only natural, and eating the flesh of a lower lifeform is understandable, but why inflict such a grewsome crime upon one another? For profit? For carnal satisfaction? The disgracefulness displayed by many humans was unsettling. As a species, they truly exhibited no moral standards.

The King was ripped from his thoughts as he heard the girl inhale deeply, trying to clear her chronically runny nose. She had moved closer to him now, close enough that he could once again feel her warmth near his chest. 

“Supreme Leader, Sir?”

“Yes?”

“May I touch you again?”

The King’s brows knitted together in confusion. Hadn’t she just said she prefers to not be touched? No, she said that _his_ touch was acceptable. The thought made him feel satisfied, and his body began to relax as his anger ebbed.

“As you wish.”

Komugi came even closer, her palms reaching out and meeting with his vest. She squeezed the fibers between her fingers before moving both hands towards the center of his chest. Here, she found a hardened plate with very little give. She assumed it to be sculpted armor. However, as she softly stroked her fingers higher, she found that there was no discernible threshold between the armor and his neck. How could that even be possible?

She refrained from asking and continued to probe farther. When her hands met his strong jaw, a breathy sound escaped from deep within her throat. The skin seemed too smooth and without the usual give she had experienced when touching other people, albeit there were only a few who ever allowed her. She felt no stubble, no scars, no blemishes marring his features. The texture felt like ever so faint granules, nearly impossible to discern. So fine, in fact, that everything felt like silk, a fabric she had only recently learned the feel of. The Supreme Leader seemed to be fashioned out of a material far superior to her own. 

She marveled at how sleek he felt. It was overwhelming, in a sense, this alien and yet oddly familiar texture. As her hands followed the curve of his jaw, she found her fingers meeting up with the straps of the helmet she already knew he wore. It was strange, though. Why did the texture almost feel the same? Why were these straps oddly warm to the touch? They felt _alive_ beneath her fingertips. 

She realized that perhaps they were alive as she softly slid the length of each strap through her fingers. A faint gasp escaped the King’s lips as she stroked each tip. _These were a part of him._

Shyly and with great speed, she released each fleshy strap and cringed at how she had perhaps gone too far. Her face turned a deep scarlet as she held her hands to her chest in embarrassment. Despite not being able to see, she led her gaze to the side, shame twisting her brow. 

“I’m sorry.”

He did not respond with words. Instead, the King took the girl’s wrists once more and guided her palms back up to his face. She smiled a bit, happy that she had not offended such an important and truly wonderful man. 

Her fingers traced up the straps once more, coming to rest at the underbrim of a hat. She immediately realized it was the helmet she so carelessly brushed against the night before. She slowly swept her hands along the underside, trying her best to find some obvious sign of his hair spilling from the helmet’s edge. She found nothing and oddly she could not seem to mentally mark where his forehead met the hat. There seemed to be no discernable divide. Abruptly, she realized this helmet was, too, a part of him. Running her fingers around the front of the brim and spreading her palms flat and wide, she felt the bumped and textured surface of his crown. There was too much warmth for a helmet, she observed. The expected coolness of metal was absent. The texture was unlike his skin, though. This was rougher and it swelled in firm hills and valleys as she pressed farther back. 

Her hands crawled towards the back of his head and she struggled to reach the end. Unable to fully grasp his form, Komugi gently rose to her knees and moved closer to the King, her face now tucked beside his ear. They were now bound in an unintentional hug that she failed to acknowledge, and he could not help but succumb to. 

Absentmindedly, the King’s hands moved to her waist and gently rested there along the delicate curve. He inhaled the scent of her hair as he felt her fingers softly caress the back of his head, lingering at the grooved slope as if to commit the shape to memory. Her warm breath heated his earlobe, a dizzying spark jutting through him at the sensation. After fully evaluating his skull, she began to pull back again, her hands passing against the nape of his neck and hauntingly bushing against each antenna once more. Everything in his body simmered in a muddled, vibrating mix.

She came to rest again in her kneeling position and found herself thoroughly confused. “Supreme Leader, ar—are you not human?”

There was a pause as he contemplated what to say. She had not yet pulled away from his touch so perhaps she truly was not scared. Still, what response would satisfy her curiosity and still let him remain approachable. Murderous, occasionally cannibalistic Ant King was probably not going to win her favor.

“No,” he cautiously admitted, “Do you fear me?”

Her right hand moved back to his cheek, caressing the velvety smooth curve. Her expression seemed deep in contemplation as her thumb softly stroked the flesh beneath his eye. She found herself reflecting on how the kindest man she had ever known was not even a man at all. At least, not a human one.

“I think I like you _better_ this way.”

His lips curved into a slight smile and she felt the movement pass beneath her palm. Mirroring her touch, he reached up and softly cupped her cheek. Together, they lingered there in silence and in trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was very important and special to me. I hope you enjoyed yourself. More fluff and angst is coming. I love these two so much <3 
> 
> Thank you so much for the support! Your comments truly do give me so much happiness and drive me to create more chapters. I appreciate all of you so much. You truly mean a great deal to me.


	15. Greed & Possession

****

**THWACK!** His tail launched the bookcase against the wall, tomes tumbling upon the ground as a shower of torn, detached pages swished throughout the room in a literary rain. The King was enraged.

Where were the answers? How does one come to understand the selfishness of man? Book after book, page after page, and still no solid solution. It was maddening.

The library was a disaster. No longer were there beautiful lines of towering, mahogany bookcases stocked with innumerable novels and manuscripts. The sturdy, leather chairs that once rested beside a grand, marble fireplace were tattered and in pieces. Pillars had crumbled, drapes had torn, and the once comforting temple to knowledge was in absolute ruin.

He had read of their social hierarchy. He had perused page after page detailing the wealthiest of humans trampling the weakest of their ilk. Of lifestyles so lavish they could easily provide security for all others if they were to just partition their good fortune. There was no loyalty, no identifiable structure to their beliefs. The only fact that remained apparent was their constant and insatiable greed, and how no crime was too reprehensible to achieve their individual desires.

‘Humans are an infestation,’ he silently snarled. 

He thought back to the gungi player, a human he had determined an irregularity to her species. ‘How could a specimen so obviously superior to her own breed endure such a life? A mind that strategically complex, and yet, her own father sold her dignity for mere currency?’ 

‘Human fathers are supposed to aid in protecting their offspring, are they not?’ It seemed nonsensical that the species would choose monogamy, but he had indubitably read that humans expected the male parental figure to remain in a sort of family unit. 

‘Fidelity towards one broodmare. How could that possibly ensure your successful posterity? How many viable offspring could a human female even produce in their lifetime, and how long would the gestation take? If the male succumbs to death between the first and second child, and if that sole progeny dies as well, their lineage will perish. Where is the benefit in this foolery?’

And yet, the King found himself earnestly contemplating the appeal of such an arrangement. After all, he was genuinely enjoying the company of one, solitary human. Given the choice, he doubted he would want to entertain any others. They would only distract him from the superior specimen he already possessed.

He reflected upon the girl. Much to his disappointment, it had only taken one more story to lull her into a land of dreams. He found he missed her active company immediately, and that the faint smile she made, as his tail pulled the blanket over her delicate form, inspired a strange feeling of weakness.

_‘Weakness is **never** an acceptable trait for evolution’s greatest creation.’ _

This girl had taken too much control over his actions. She was becoming a complication in his destiny to rule over all lesser creatures, and he began to mull over the pros and cons of her disposal. Ultimately, a twisting pain gripped his stomach and he decided such a decision did not yet need addressing. There was still a full day before Selection, and there was no harm in enjoying her company a bit longer. Perhaps, he would even have Pitou ensure a change of clothes and meal be brought to her in the morning. Oddly, her happiness and comfort satisfied him. Even if he did decide to ultimately eliminate her, he would ensure it was painless. She deserved concessions that other humans did not. 

Killing her would, however, dull his existence. Who would he mentally spar against? Every other human had proven to be an unqualified imbecile. He would need something to distract himself. After all, ruling over a world of such useless subjects would not prove difficult. The tedium would be mind-numbing. ‘Besides, I find her touch pleasing.’

He began to think back on their encounter, and how her fragile fingertips had intimately stroked along the curves of his face. The way her hot breath felt against his ear, and how her body was on the verge of sliding firmly against his own. The loss of control he felt as his antennae slid against her palms and the indescribable rush he had nearly succumbed to when she grasped the tips—

‘She is _just_ a human. **_Nothing_ more**.’

He exhaled a shaky breath and began to, once again, reflect upon his earlier conundrum concerning the crimes and folly of man. It seemed that, frustratingly, not all answers could be found in books. As for the solution to the girl, tomorrow he would decide, but for now, he would remain satisfied in the knowledge her game pieces were still in play and that he had full control over the board. 

* * *

Komugi positioned herself at the side of the massive bed. Reaching out, she felt along a small table until she found a sturdy, wooden clock. Her hands slid carefully over the clock’s face, mentally marking where the minute and hour hand currently found themselves. Early. Very early. It seems she had not slept for as long as she had thought.

Falling back against the pillows and puffed-up blankets, Komugi sighed. When had the Supreme Leader left her there alone? Today, when her sleepy eyes first opened wide to her invisible world, she reached out to touch him, hoping to find him still beside her. Sadly, she had found nothing. Well, almost nothing. His fresh and loamy musk still lingered on the spot he had occupied. She found herself sprawling against the strange scent, inhaling deeply, and losing herself in blissful reverie.

‘He isn’t human.’ The thought popped into her mind as though it were absurd, and yet, she knew it to be an absolute truth. She had felt his velvety flesh and marveled at the durability it seemed to possess. His chest was so firm, and his large hands felt so comforting against her waist. She wondered what the rest of him might feel like. What it would feel like to press her lips—

Her cheeks blazed as she tried to push the thought out of her mind. She rolled back and forth on the bed, wildly embarrassed and covering her face with her slim, delicate hands. How could she, a peasant, think such thoughts about Dear Leader?

She paused, another realization dawning upon her. Why was the _Supreme Leader_ of her very human country not human himself? Did he overthrow our Supreme Leader Masadoru Deīgo? No, that's impossible. He was all-powerful.  
  
Only one solution would possibly make sense. The new Supreme Leader _must_ be a powerful yōkai, sent here to help her people prosper. Perhaps, every great man of status was a mythical creature. Maybe, they look like humans most of the time so no one is ever suspicious. Why did such an important and legendary creature allow her, a worthless human, to know his true form? 

**THUD! THUD! THUD!**

“Eee?!” Komugi squeaked in fear. Three loud knocks startled her from her quiet contemplation. The door creaked open ever so slightly and she strained to hear any sound that would identify the intruder. “S—Supreme Leader?”

“Not even close!”

“Ser Pitou!” 

“Neow you got it!”

Pitou feistily sprang into the room, throwing a bundle of garments and bobbles onto the bed before plunging upon the pillowy blankets herself. Komugi startled at the impact and moved to steady herself against the bed’s violent shakes. 

“Wh—what are you doing Ser Pitou?”

Pitou sprang into a crouch and advanced, now leaning over the confused girl. “I’m getting you ready for today!”

“Re—Ready? For what?”

“Mmmm…not sure. Gungi, I guess. His Majesty just told me to make sure you’re fed and in this dress.”

“Dress, Ser Pitou?” she nervously inquired.

“Selected by the King himself!”

“Ehhh?” Komugi’s face blushed like a ripe apple.

It was true. After obliterating the library, the King had found himself angrily wandering the halls of the palace. He, too, came upon the costuming room that Pitou had been both scavenging and destroying for days now. It was in that room, that he also found the cat chimera digging through a trunk of jewelry and props. Her excited coos as she frantically pulled and tossed sparkling treasure lackadaisically about, shockingly piqued his interest. Even more shocking, after walking down the long line of colorful garments, the King's tail speared the hanger of a beautiful frock. It was the very dress Pitou now brought to Komugi. 

“It’s not _pink_ but it’s what His Majesty demanded.” There was a hint of disappointment in Pitou’s tone.

The dress' hue was not really a concern to Komugi, but remembering her dream where Dear Leader explained the significance of colors, she decided to ask. “Then, please, wh--what does it look like, Ser Pitou?”

“No petticoats like the one you're in now, but this one is all-white frills and lace…”

‘White meant 'pure,’ Komugi thought.

“…and it's bound around the waist by a deep green sash.”

‘What was green again?’ She struggled to remember.

“Seems kinda fancy just to play a board game! Nyah.” Pitou grinned, eyeing the large, leather-bound book that still rested at the corner of the bed, a curious possession for a blind girl. “Doing some late-night reading?”

“Wh—what do you me—”

**knock—knock—knock**

“Pouf is here! You'll eat now!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline Update: So, we're currently sitting at the beginning of day 5. The night will fall and the eagle will come. 
> 
> Thank you all for your support! I wasn't even sure if I could do this when I sat down to type up that first chapter. I'm glad I can entertain all of you with my story. I know I say it a lot, but I mean it when I say you all mean so much to me. Another chapter will arrive soon. Lots of fluff and romance on the way <3


	16. Eye of the Beholder

Pouf pressed his open palm against the long corridor’s wall, his body crashing against the ornate wallpaper as if it would embrace him lovingly in, this, his time of dire need. Tears streamed down his face in hot waves, the frill of his silken shirt wet from the cascade of liquid rushing from his eyes as if it were escaping a badly broken dam. He let out a loud, shrill sob and gripped his aching heart. Another catastrophe had come to the attention of this impressively devoted Royal Guard.

The tears steadied into a soft trickle and then stilled against his bloodshot eyes. Mouth curved down and lips quivering, he reflected upon the tragedy that had befallen the entire chimera ant race: The King had bestowed even more gifts upon that horrid _thing_!

No longer could he simply dismiss her as a temporary distraction or perhaps a bothersome pet. Now, things were becoming more complicated and he reflected upon it being his sworn duty to protect his remarkable King at any cost. This viper of a woman would not sway His Majesty’s glorious destiny. 

“Why doesn’t he give me gifts?” Pouf mumbled sadly, slumping defeatedly against the wall, “I must get rid of her before it’s—”

“What are you blabbering?”

Pouf jumped at the sound of the King’s voice. “S—Sire! I was just speaking to myself.”

The King advanced towards the butterfly chimera, his eyes narrowing into slits. Rapidly, Pouf realized the King was suspicious. 

“My Liege,” he gulped out, “I have done as you asked and fed the human.”

The King continued to bore into Pouf with his tyrannical stare, causing the Royal Guard to turn his shameful gaze to the floor. 

“Tell me, Pouf,” the King rasped through gritted teeth, “Is there reason I should doubt your loyalty?”

“Sire! Of course not!” Pouf dropped swiftly to his knees, bowing deeply. “I am your eternal servant, my King. If you commanded me to end my own life, I would do so without hesitation. I exist only to fulfill your desires, the ambitions of the One True King.”

“Good.”

The King began to pace past the kneeling guard, his tail brandishing through the air violently, his suspicions still not satisfied.

“My King,” Pouf blurted out, immediately regretting his decision as the King paused mid-step, his tail’s stinger forcefully lashing out before stopping mere centimeters from Pouf’s face.

“What is it now? Do you seek to further waste my time?”

“N—No Your Majesty. I just wanted to inform you that the first human turned chimera soldier should be emerging from her cocoon in the near future, and—”

“ _And **what**_?” The stinger began to root itself into the pale-violet flesh of Pouf’s forehead.

“Given certain modifications, I feel she may be a worthy specimen for His Majesty to consider as a potent—”

**THA-WACK!**

Pouf collapsed backwards, his hands quivering against the cold, stone floor. A meager trail of blue blood escaped out of his nostrils and slipped into his widely split mouth.

“You _do_ disregard the value of my time.” The King’s back was still turned to the trembling guard.

“Forgive me, Sire. I…I beg of you.”

The King did not speak. Instead, he began storming down the ornate corridor, his pace determined and tail still lashing furiously. However, as he neared the steps to the guest tower, he paused, “You are not needed, Pouf. Do not _dare_ to come near me unless I summon you.” Turning his head for the first time, the King’s eyes blazed. “Or there will be _severe_ consequences.”

“Yes, Your Majesty! I understand! As you wish.”

Pouf watched the King turn to ascend the spiraling stairs, a fear welling deep within his soul. He had to do something. _Today_. He cannot let that girl get any closer to his glorious and mighty King.

* * *

The King’s chest tightened as he approached the gungi master’s chambers. For the past several hours, he could not get the girl out of his thoughts. He had tried reading all sorts of literature, yet ultimately, all books he opened found their way into a disheveled heap beside his bed. Instead of mulling over new knowledge and the mysteries of the universe, the King had found himself quietly daydreaming about the human girl. 

Furthermore, he had found himself growing exponentially excited as the minutes ticked closer to the start of a new day, his thoughts impatiently willing the woman to wake up early. He had plans. He had found things, _beautiful_ things, in the palace and he wanted to share them with the woman. She might not be able to see, but he knew each of his planned affairs were easily experienced through her other senses. He made sure of it.

 _Beautiful_. Beautiful was a word he had come to understand now. He found the word very human, but it had a denotation that he could easily grasp. Something that brought pleasure or satisfaction to any of the senses. He knew of such things in his admittedly short existence. He knew of beauty. 

He approached the towering twin doors to her chambers and moved to hastily swing them open. He paused, however, and his delay confused him. This was the first time he had ever hesitated to enter a room in _his_ palace. Perhaps, she was not yet ready. Perhaps, she would be upset if he barged in and she were still changing. Her modesty and desire to constantly be covered made little sense, but given her past, it seemed logical that it was of importance to her. Thoughts, both gentlemanly and not, flew through his mind as he tried to determine the proper course of action. 

Raising his closed fist in front of the door, he decided to try knocking for the first time in his life. Before his hand could make contact, however, the right door swung inward and a very startled Pitou nearly collided with the King. “Y— _Your Majesty_?!” the cat chimera exclaimed, bowing her head in respect, “Forgive me.”

The King quickly folded his arms across his chest, not wanting his near concession to be known. _Kings do not knock_. “Is she ready?”

“She is, Sire. I have—”

“ ** _Leave_**.”

Pitou shook at the King’s abruptness. “As you wish, my King.”

The King waited a few moments for his feline Royal Guard to gracefully leap out the wide window of the tower, obviously returning to her assigned post. With his privacy now secured, he began to walk inside the guest bedroom he had come to know exceedingly well.

As he cleared the door’s threshold, the King nearly gasped. Before he could even think, he confidently spoke one, single word: “ _Beautiful_.”

* * *

She realized his compliment was surely for the dress alone, and yet, Komugi blushed a shade so deep it would have rivaled the most vibrant of sweet, summer roses. She stood there; her hair tied in a long, loose braid that draped elegantly over her delicate right shoulder. Her powder-white dress fell to just above her knees, the color complimenting her starlight-hued tresses. Smiling there in lace and frills, she seemed an earthbound angel whose smile radiated an ethereal light.

 _Finally_ , the compliment she had longed for, even if it were just for a dress.

She was clutching something at the small of her back, and now, realizing the Supreme Leader was there, the answer to her clumsy predicament became apparent. “Umm, Dear Leader, Sir,” she began, her words timid and nervous, “Co—Could you please help me?”

The King found himself at her side almost instantly, his eagerness feeling too apparent. He quietly chided himself for his momentary loss of control. Pushing on, and attempting his most formal and authoritative tone, he queried, “What obstacle challenges you?”

Komugi turned, her back now facing the King. “Ser Pitou forgot to tie the sash,” she nervously admitted. 

The King looked down to the small girl’s waist where he found her frail hand clutching each length of forest-green ribbon. He took the satin sash into his hands, his heart thudding mercilessly against his chest as his fingers brushed against hers. He could hear the wild palpitations banging within his ears, drowning out all surrounding sound. With a few twists, a near-perfect bow rested at the swell of the frock’s lacy and ruffled skirt. The King had bound Komugi tightly and with precision. He paused before letting go of the ribbon, his body wanting to linger near her for as long as possible. 

“Is—Is it tied now, Your Majesty?”

Her voice split him from his intoxicating elation. Releasing the sash, almost reluctantly, he affirmed, “It has been done.”

Komugi spun around to face the King, her toothy smile big and her eyes scrunched up in an impossibly cute expression. “Thank you, Dear Leader! A—And thank you for the dress! Ser Pitou said you picked it out! I—I know it’s a waste on someone like me, and I hope the way I look in it doesn’t insult you.”

“Are you inferring that I am incapable of determining an individual’s value?” The King retorted indignantly. “I said you look beautiful, did I not?”

Komugi’s eyes sprang open in shock. “M—Me—Me, Dear Leader? I thought you meant—”

“I meant _exactly_ as I said. Do not make me repeat myself.”

Komugi blushed in embarrassment as she realized the compliment was for her. She also turned nearly purple as she fearfully realized she may have insulted His Majesty. She shut her eyes, lips trembling, she shamefully lowered her face to the floor. “I’m sorry, Dear Leader.”

The King astonishingly found himself, once again, contradicting his usual instincts. Instead of slapping the girl for insulting his judgement, he affectionately reached forward and gingerly stroked the soft braid nestled against the crook of her neck. “I deem you worthy of such a garment.”

Komugi’s face lit up, her vibrant smile returning in full force. “Thank you so much, Dear Leader!” 

It was in that moment, Komugi did something that, when dealing with royalty, may be considered ill-judged. She sprang forward, her slim arms encompassing the King in a tight and genuine embrace. 

The King froze rigidly upon feeling the girl’s grasp. Not knowing what to do, his arms hung awkwardly in the air to either side, palms facing away from his shoulders. His eyes and mouth gaped as a soft, blueish blush spread across his green cheeks. 

Komugi, despite her blindness, glanced up at the King, wide, crystal eyes unreasonably beautiful from his high view. It appeared almost as if she could truly see him. Her chin rested against his firm chest; her smile was mind-numbingly hypnotic. With a playful giggle, she squeezed him even tighter. 

Still stunned, and with cautious movements, the King lowered his arms and wrapped them around the excited woman. Feeling the embrace of his mutual hug, Komugi turned her head to the side and pressed her ear against his chest, savoring the rhythmic beating of his heart. At the same time, the King’s left hand moved to rest upon her silken hair, holding her in a way that felt both ludicrous and unquestionably natural to the ant.

It is unclear how long they stood there, holding one another in a way neither had ever fully experienced before. Both felt content and neither made effort to separate from the other’s comforting warmth. Ultimately, however, knowing all good things must come to an end, Komugi spoke.

“Did you want to play gungi?”

“Yes,” he answered back, his tone dreamy and alien to his ears. “Would you care to play me?” 

She pulled away from his embrace and anxiously trembled in excitement. “Hai!”

The King grinned. It was a smile she would have melted upon seeing, if only she could. She felt his strong hand take her own, and she began to follow his slow and thoughtful lead, all the while eagerly wondering what this day would bring.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More random thoughts: Embarrass the writer edition:
> 
> My nickname within my circle of friends is now "Bug Babe" because of this story, my Meruem themed office, and the fact I first had a weird crush on Perfect Cell (I know, I have a...type). Anyway, for a while now, my friends have randomly sent me text messages of arachnids and other creepy crawlies with the accompanied question: "smash or pass?"
> 
> To annoy and hopefully disgust them, I have answered "smash." Every. Single. Time. 
> 
> Thank you all for your support! It means so much to me, and your comments and encouragement have been the driving force to finish this work. Since it's my first story I've ever written, I'm always so worried my tale is boring all of you. That's the absolute last thing I wish to do. I hope that all of you will continue to enjoy the romance. I truly enjoy this experience and I hope it continues to entertain many of you <3 
> 
> xoxoxo,  
> Bug Babe (LMFAO)


	17. Ring of Flowers

His earthy musk lulled her into an absolute sense of security, her body hummed with joy as he tenderly cradled her in his firm and powerful arms. Without her cane to mark the sharp edges of each step, she had been struggling to follow him down the West Tower’s long and twisting staircase. Observing her struggle, the King had gingerly, yet without warning, lifted the small blonde into his arms. The act, however, did not feel like an insult to Komugi’s capabilities. She knew that sometimes people would toss her about or push her aside because they were inconvenienced by her or annoyed. Once, her brother had roughly thrown her into a rusted wheelbarrow just so he could push her like discarded scraps, effectively escaping the responsibility of carefully guiding her into town. She cringed, remembering the guttural noise of utter disgust her brother choked out when lifting her. 

In opposition to that painful memory, Komugi found it apparent, by the way Dear Leader held her, that she was not a burden in his eyes. She finally began to feel her presence was wanted by someone, and that loamy, masculine scent had become a genuine and cherished source of comfort. 

For the duration of their trek, she had been carelessly drawing circles on his chest with her narrow fingertips. With each rounded swipe, she marveled at the barely pliable hardness that, somehow, still felt so silken against her skin. She imagined his unique form must be akin to the impossibly beautiful things her sisters always raved about. They boasted how, despite their family’s poor circumstances, they were ladies of good taste and had seen amazing creations in magazines and books. Of course, they would always say that Komugi could never possibly understand such things. These marvels were not for the blind and useless. 

Now, gliding her hand across the well-defined collarbones and strong, noble features of the Supreme Leader, she began to think they were wrong about her ability to understand such abstract concepts. “Art.” That is what they called it. Dear Leader was surely like this “art,” and now she too understood its precious and priceless value. 

“We have arrived,” he softly revealed, reluctantly lowering the woman to her feet. 

Her glossy shoes gently planted against something unexpected. She bounced a bit, attempting to confirm the soft and somewhat spongey texture. She knew what it felt like, but there was no way such a thing was possible. 

“Dear Leader, are…are we outside?”

He chuckled, “Not exactly.” She felt his large hands slide over her lacy, capped sleeves as he leaned down to hauntingly whisper into her ear, “Be still now.”

She obeyed and waited in place, her body missing the careful yet confident touch of his hands upon her shoulders. She was beginning to feel empty when he was not near. Like a piece of her had been mined away, leaving a gaping and depressing cavern in her heart. A hollow that nothing else could possibly fill, and most likely, only the Supreme Leader would ever care to enter.

There was a buzzing whirl that startled her. She jumped back; her hands clutched tightly against her embroidered bodice. She had never heard such a violent noise in her entire life. It sounded like a terrible beast was looming above her, and the behemoth’s claws were dragging across the roof in rhythmic clanks. This noise was terrifying, and she began to back away only to stumble directly into the open, waiting arms of the Supreme Leader.

“Fear not,” his amused voice assured her, “You are safe.” 

“Wh—what is that? It sounds like a m—m—monster!”

He chuckled again, thoroughly enjoying her reaction to his simple flip of a switch. “This is no beast. It is but the ceiling. Nothing more.”

“The ceiling? How is that…even…” her words trailed off as a sudden burst of sunlight bathed her skin. It felt like fresh bathwater being poured from a heated pail. Only a few times had she been the first recipient of the weekly shared bath, when the water was still hot and felt like a rare and desperately needed hug. Unless she was competing that week, she always had to bathe last and was miserable in the icy, used waters. The glow she sensed now felt precious, just like that first-in-line bath always would. She inhaled, reflecting on the heated waters, her smile growing warm to match the memory.

The King observed her innocently closed eyes and blossoming, pink smile. She seemed so blissful in that moment and he wondered what she could possibly be imagining. Why had he never seen anyone else smile so genuinely? Did he, himself, even have the capability to do such a thing?

Looking above, he watched as the ceiling continued to retract, each thud revealing more and more of the gorgeous sky above. Framed within long, parallel rows of glistening metal and crystal-clear panes of glass, the clouds looked segmented and surreal. The entire conservatory was lit by the sun and the large landscape of fully-grown trees and lush flowers seemed to come alive at the celestial body’s gentle nudge. He mused on how the natural light source must be quite a bit better than those awful fuchsia-hued bulbs that once eerily lit the foliage. Despite having no clue of its existence, this indoor oasis had survived for weeks, consuming artificial light and drinking in a steady stream of fresh water that fell from the ceiling like clockwork.

“I believe,” the King began, “humans call this particular structure an atrium.”

“An atrium?” Komugi repeated, her mind wandering back to the squishy mass she stood upon, now obviously grass.

“It appears humans are such greedy creatures they even imprison nature itself.” 

“Are…are there flowers?” she asked, not knowing how to respond to his cynicism. 

“Innumerable.”

The King smiled as he lifted the girl into his arms once more. She squeaked in soft protest but quickly nestled against his chest, smiling contently, and gripping his vest in her small palm. “Many obstructions line our path. I shall carry you to our gungi board.” She whispered her gratitude against his chest before exhaling a whimsical, dreamy sigh. Soon, there would be gungi with Dear Leader. 

* * *

The atrium was a stunning, indoor forest. How it had gone unnoticed since the chimeras seized the palace, no one can really be sure, but it was the sweet smell of peonies that lured the Ant King away from his determined stride. 

Opening a strange set of doors, he came upon a peculiar rarity. The sprawling room was snaked with patterns of ghostly light that made it look more like a waiting, hungry trap than a miniature paradise. He had desperately needed to know the reason for this hypnagogic image before him, the surreal pink glow making him question if this were reality or a dream. 

To his right, a collection of switches and glowing buttons had lined the wall. One switch, in particular, seemed notably important. With a snap of his tail, the switch clicked into place, the roof began to recede, and the King stood there in absolute awe. 

With all artificial light rhythmically doused like a sea of extinguishing candle flames, the brilliantly bright moon illuminated the twisting, trickling streams and the surreally braided trunks of fairytale-esque trees. His mind wandered, a pleasant image of a gungi board resting beside him, and the human woman smiling while she precisely placed her white game piece. 

And so, since that is what the King imagined, that is what would come to pass. After all, any desire of nature’s apex creation is one worthy of fulfillment. 

Now, the gungi board and two saffron-hued cushions were nestled next to a bubbling brook surrounded by gorgeous golden-yellow blossoms. Komugi and the King sat there, announcing moves back and forth until, naturally, the girl would win. Graciously accepting defeat, the King would always ask if she would enjoy another game. Naturally, this question was always a foolish one.

“8-8-1, new Musketeer.”

The King observed the woman growing more and more distracted. She kept glancing towards the stream, her look increasingly thoughtful. 

“Your move,” he announced a bit more firmly. Still, he failed to gain her attention. His brow crinkled as he tried to determine the girl’s intense focus. “Does something trouble you?”

“Eh? Oh, no, Dear Leader. I’m sorry! I just like the smell of the flowers. They smell so pretty.”

“Would possessing these blossoms please you?”

“Oh! No, that’s okay, Your Majesty. I’m not worth the troub—”

It was too late to protest. Before she could even finish her sentence, she felt something drop before her folded knees. Reaching down, she felt the feather-soft petals of what, shockingly, must be dozens of the sweet-smelling flowers. 

Without hesitation, she giddily pulled handfuls of the unbound bouquet up to her nose and inhaled as deeply as her stuffy sinuses would allow. They smelled like a meadow on a calm Spring morning, right after the morning dew kissed each bowing blade of wind-swayed grass. So peaceful and soothing. Like she imagined _home_ would smell like if she ever lived in anything more than just a dreary house.

“D—Dear Leader…you didn’t have to pluck all of your flowers for someone like me. I’m sure they were so beautiful, and it must make you sad to ruin your garden.”

“I care not,” the King honestly admitted. He gazed affectionately upon the girl before sincerely adding, “If you so desire it, ask it, and every flower flourishing in this garden shall be yours.”

Komugi blushed a deep crimson that even spread down her neck and to the tips of her ears. Had she just heard the Supreme Leader correctly? Why would he say such a thing? She surely misheard him. Sometimes, he seemed to speak in another language, his words making little sense to the gungi master’s ears.

Komugi moved her piece “5-5-1, Archer,” and then began to fiddle with the stack of flowers aside her lap, a mischievous smile faintly pulling at the corners of her pretty pout. She worked with haste, braiding together the long stems of the sunlight-painted flowers. All the while, awkwardly attempting to shield her busy hands from where she assumed the Supreme Leader to be. 

The Chimera King easily noticed her bumbling attempt at secrecy. “What is it you hide?”

“It’s your turn, Dear Leader,” she happily chirped back, turning her body to screen even more of her creation.

“So it is,” he confirmed while continuing to watch the slim blonde, his curiosity mounting by the second. “3-4-1, Knight.”

“7-8-2, Spy.”

“I concede,” he absentmindedly mumbled, realizing his defeat. The loss, just another in a long line, meant nothing to the King. His focus was intently tuned upon the woman who was intricately maneuvering her fingers while the impressive stack of flowers steadily decreased. He dropped his black game pieces upon the gungi board and began to patiently wait.

“Okay, shut your eyes,” Komugi announced, something tucked behind her back as she bounced happily on her plush pillow. 

“Very well.” 

The King, knowing there was no way she could possibly confirm his gaze, still obeyed. He sat there, unsure of what would happen, and genuinely amused at prospect of possibly receiving a gift. He heard her move, her hands clumsily knocking game pieces from the board as she used the wooden block as a sort of guide. Her hand come to rest on his knee, a tingling rush flooding his senses. 

She lingered at his knee longer than she needed. It felt like armor beneath her fingertips, but she knew his chest had a similar texture and warmth. She reflected upon him being inhuman, but still, she wondered why he seemed to have a hardened shell covering most of his body. Was it an outfit he wore to protect himself in battle? Did he need these plates to disguise his majestic youkai form? It seemed so alien, and yet, the feel was immeasurably pleasing. Curiously, she gently stroked her open palm up the length of his thigh, marveling at the velvety firmness. She only paused when she heard him gasp.

Her wandering hand had come to rest at his hip, the fingers gently curving into the dipped and recessed joint. He expected her to jerk away in embarrassment, but she did not. Instead, with deliberate movements, her fingers retreated from the less guarded, sensitive skin and came to land perfectly on his cheek. Immediately, he felt his body grow warm and his lips quiver into a small yet satisfied smile. 

She was kneeling before him now, his head slightly bowed to give the petite woman easier access to his face. She gradually stroked her hand along the ridge of his cheekbone before asking, “Did you peek?”

“My word is absolute.”

“Okay, good,” she giggled, her hands both reaching up past his brow and above his head. “I know you already have a crown, Dear Leader,” she said shyly, “but it’s okay to have two today, right?” Her fingers softly placed a delicate halo of golden-yellow flowers atop the King’s head. “You can look now.”

His eye fluttered open, the light shrinking the pupils as he tried to focus on his bright and vibrant surroundings. Her smile was the first thing he clearly saw, the grin radiating like the sun itself. Her mouth closed and she ran her tongue across her lower lip before playfully biting it between her teeth. Her body swayed in absolute glee as she waited for acknowledgement of her creation. 

As if entranced, the King found himself leaning forward, his hands aching to caress her blushed face. His mouth moved closer to her pleasing pout, puppeteered by some oddly visceral urge. His head tilted and his lids began to dreamily fall over his violet eyes.

“What do you think, Supreme Leader?” Her voice broke him of his trance. He shook away his blissful stupor, his hands and face both retreating before satiating his intoxicating desire. This nearly all-consuming hunger had completely confused the Ant King. Such a bizarre and unnatural experience. 

“Do you like it?” she quizzed again, doubt beginning to singe her once elated tone.

The King reached up, touching the tightly bound flowers that made up his first crown he was not born wearing. He could feel the intricately knotted braids of flower stems. Obviously, the woman had created these before.

“Let me see,” he concluded, rising to his feet, and walking over to the still waters of a small koi pond. He leaned forward, his reflection bouncing back at him, a garland of petals crowning all his magnificent, unrivaled glory. ‘I truly am _the_ ideal and perfect specimen,’ he silently yet proudly admitted.

He returned to his cushion, this time seating himself behind it. Gently taking her hand in his own, he guided her forward, her legs coming to rest on the much plusher surface. “It pleases me greatly.”

Komugi lit up, her smile uncharacteristically confident. The King found himself enjoying the novelty of it and mentally took note of what inspired such a beautiful expression.

Glancing to her white dress, the King noticed that one of the yellow flowers clung securely to the delicate white lace of her bodice. He reached forward, plucking it free before bringing to his nose and inhaling the sweet scent. “Give me your hand.”

Komugi was immediately confused but offered her left palm to the King. She felt his strong and textured hands encompass her fingers, each moving along her second digit, something winding against the sensitive flesh lining the finger’s base. A few moments passed and he released his touch, her hand suspended in midair as she puzzled over what he possibly could have done. With caution, her right hand moved over the left, feeling the gift he had left behind.

“I am unsure how to braid a crown,” the King admitted, “It is my hope this offering will suffice.”

Komugi’s fingers delicately traced the petals of the flower now bound to her finger, an elegant ring to match the crown Dear Leader wore atop his head. “I love it! Thank you, Supreme Leader, Sir!”

The King smiled, that same ravenous need to be closer to the woman swelling within his chest. With a careful hand, he cupped her cheek, the warmth of her body enticing him to continue. His fingers slid into her soft snow-white tresses and his other hand moved to fervidly claim her waist. The girl swallowed hard, her body growing rigid as she realized what was about to transpire. She wet her lips, an intensity throbbing within her chest, threatening to burst.

Crashing against their skin like a frigid wave, a cold storm began to rain down upon the two, startling them both free of their lustful embrace. Mechanized chaos ensued. Fountains of water erupted from the two ponds and lights flickered on and off in eerie succession. A thunderous roar shook panes of glass as the roof struggled to contract.

“Eeeep!” Komugi squealed, her hands rushing to cover her hair, “You said we were inside!”

“We are,” the King answered back, obvious annoyance stinging his words like venom. He gathered the girl into his arms before swiftly walking towards an ornate gazebo nestled between a smattering of grand trees. 

Securely within the dry and comfortable structure, he looked to the ceiling and reflected on how this watering system would only operate once a day. The manual, carelessly thrown into a niche beside the control panel, made that abundantly clear. Furthermore, right now was, most definitely, not the scheduled time. Something was amiss, and he wanted to know what. 

“This should _not_ have happened.” 

The King’s eyes narrowed and boiled with rage.

* * *

“We’ll just push them all,” a quietly frantic voice pleaded while a slender palm slid across a panel of brightly colored buttons. 

“Why are we bothering to interrupt some board game? If he finds out—”

“Shhh,” the voice hushed. “This is all necessary…to _guarantee_ the glory of our King!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I dedicate this chapter to any fan artist who has drawn Komugi giving Meruem a floral crown. No matter who illustrates it, I never fail to adore it <3 
> 
> Second, after much research, I now know wayyyyyyy too much about how to hide an atrium in a palace. If Komugi had said yes, and asked Meruem for every flower, I picture him making the Royal Guards do it XD
> 
> Third, the once a week bath has a story:  
> My father is from a very tiny and poor community in Appalachia. He and his thirteen family members lived in a one room cabin. To put his life into perspective, he wasn't allowed an education due to labor demands by his parents, and he didn't know how to sign his own name until he was well into adulthood. 
> 
> My father told me many stories about his childhood, some beautiful and most absolutely dreadful. One that always stuck with me is the bathwater. He said that once a week, a bath would be filled with water freshly heated on the stove. There was a pecking order in the family and each person accepted their place. If you were first, your bath was warm and clean. However, if you fell last, you used the exact same water everyone else already had. I want you to remember that's fourteen people, one bath, and a community sustained on hard, backbreaking labor. 
> 
> ____________________
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! I greatly appreciate all of you and what you've done for me. My dad was so proud when I told him I was attempting to write something. I never would have gotten to experience that moment had all of you not supported me <3


	18. One's Own Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE GREAT VEST WAR of 2020: DukeKitty vs King951
> 
> The most ridiculous part of this chapter's preparation was our debate over Meruem's vest. Can it or can't it come off? DukeKitty stood firmly on the side of it being part of an exoskeleton, and therefore, can't be removed. I parried his claims, stating that, much like the other ants, they just have clothing for character design. They can still take it off just like Hina did during her bath.
> 
> Our war waged on. We asked Twitter, who seemed to be siding with DukeKitty, and we drug in our friends, who sided with me. A vest-less King is alluring, after all. 
> 
> Still, I started thinking about it. His wings never break or tear that vest. Nope...never do...Not. Even. Once. Hmmm...
> 
> On the other hand, no vest is significantly hotter. No vest absolutely wins!

Komugi’s brow twisted as she ran her hands down the sopping wet length of her dress. It was obvious, even by touch, that her beautiful clothes had been utterly destroyed, the delicate fabric unable to withstand the unexpected downpour. She sniffled, tears beginning to well up in her shimmering eyes.

Meanwhile, the King was fuming, his agitated tail whipping through the air, malice thick and suffocating. If it had been only the sprinkler system, perhaps he could have dismissed it. Humans are doltish and their failures are to be expected. One of them may have programed the mechanism incorrectly before winding up a meal for the Royal Guards.

No, this was _everything_ malfunctioning. His lips snarled as he wondered where his three bumbling fools could possibly be. Were they responsible for this madness? Surely, they were not stupid enough to incur his wrath.

The King's seething rage began to wane at the sound of the girl’s cries. He was mere seconds from leaving the woman there in the gazebo while he went to hunt down the source of his anger. Now, instead of a merciless tantrum that would, no doubt, end in violence, he just wanted to hear her sorrowful sobs stop.

“What saddens you?”

The King’s voice was gentle and concerned when talking to the woman, a phenomenon becoming more frequent as each day lingered on. He crossed the gazebo, his hand reaching forward and cupping the woman’s chin. Raising her face towards his own, he began to assess her devastated condition.

Komugi’s lips trembled, “The dress you gave me, Dear Leader. It’s ruined!”

The King scanned the once gracefully light and airy garment, now matted and clinging to the girl’s sylphlike form. “It is but a dress.”

“But—but you picked it out!”

“I will simply choose another.”

Komugi’s tears settled, her mind processing the Supreme Leader’s words. She was so used to people punishing her when something was broken or soiled. She thought that surely, something as grand and luxurious as this beautiful gown would earn her lashings or even worse. Instead, the King honestly did not seem to care, the item something easily replaceable in his mind. She began to bawl in earnest.

These acute displays of emotion were new, and still disconcerting to the inexperienced King. He struggled with what to do, his eyes locked on the thick, rolling tears that fiercely erupted from her glossy eyes before vanishing upon her already soaked skin. How does one console a creature such as this?

“Come,” he began, his confident command ebbing her sobs, “I know of a place where water is far less of an annoyance.” 

He grasped her hand in his own and began to lead them away from the shelter of the gazebo, farther back into the forested atrium where ivy clung to the walls, each leaf desperately climbing towards heaven's blinding light. Water rained against them, excess sloshing from the brim of his natural-born crown. Komugi continued to follow, her body cold from the frigid onslaught. 

The rain abruptly stopped as the King led her into a chilly masonry passageway. It was one he had found tucked away in the far corner of the indoor forest, no signs to mark the corridor’s ultimate destination. 

Komugi heard drips and plops as their watery cloaks slicked away and splattered against the stone floor. They seemed to be gradually descending on their path. The air began to smell faintly of sulfur, a scent Komugi did not yet have the proper word to name. It was not exactly pleasant, and it made her wonder what strange place Dear Leader was leading them to. 

The air shifted and Komugi realized they had entered a wider space. A warmer space filled with the faint trickling sounds of running water. The slight hairs on her arms stood on end as a cloud of steam caressed her dripping flesh. 

“What is this place, Dear Leader?”

“I originally appraised this location an odd choice to construct one’s palace. To the West, there are sprawling woodlands full of agrestal beauty and resource. Barely to the East, ceaseless ocean horizons would have afforded more charm than a parched, sprawling wasteland. True, it could be argued, an enemy incursion is easier to thwart in…”

Komugi listened, unsure of where the Supreme Leader was going with his long yet seemingly persuasive monologue. She had only asked where they are. Why was he pondering over the palace’s location like it was his Marshall on the board? Did he expect her to have some sort of response to all his observations? She grew nervous as his speech drug on, assuming she may soon be questioned. 

In truth, however, this eloquent and ostensibly well-rehearsed soliloquy had little to do with the gungi grand master. The King simply admired his superior deductive reasoning and relished the sound of his own regal voice. 

“…volcanic. To covet such a nutrient-rich hot spring only for oneself, seems supremely logical.”

Komugi’s brain reeled. Most of his words had slipped by, the girl tuning out about the time Dear Leader started talking about magma chambers deep beneath their feet. She did, however, pick up on the words “hot spring.” That sounded familiar or at least easy to understand.

“What…what are we doing here, Dear Leader, Sir?”

The King turned, surprised she had not yet surmised the reason. “For relaxation. What else? You seemed to find your bath indulgent. This rarity is exceedingly more decadent.”

Komugi twisted nervously, her hands awkwardly wringing the excess moisture from her skirt. “I don’t have anything appropriate to wear, Your Majesty.”

“Clothes are wholly superfluous.”

“Ehh?”

“Unneeded.”

“Wha—What?!” Komugi turned cherry red, her hands flying to conceal her blushing cheeks. “So, _no clothes_ and wi— _with_ _you_?!”

“If you so desire it.” 

Euphoria blissfully bubbled within Komugi's veins, a red-hot rush flooding her body right down to her toes. Tiny pin-prick sensations started to dot her flesh; her neck suddenly sensitive as her wet hair clung to the supple flesh. She opened her mouth to respond, and yet, no sound could escape her tightened throat.

“I shall commit no offensive acts,” he offered, noticing her lingering pause, “You have my word.”

Still unable to choke out an answer, Komugi stood there with her mouth wide and cheeks scorching. Half her mind instinctively wanted to back away and remove herself from the situation, and yet, the other half trusted the Supreme Leader and wanted to, almost desperately, remain by his side.

While she puzzled and worried about what actions to take, the King walked towards the trembling maiden, his eyes locking upon the green sash that adorned her waist. The color had begun to bleed into the white fabric, greedily consuming its milky hue. “Would you prefer a towel to obscure your form?”

“Umm, maybe. Is it—it okay to wear a towel in the water, though?”

“Does someone possess authority greater than my own?”

She shook her head earnestly, “No, Your Majesty, Sir.”

“Concealment or no, it is not my place to say. Either way,” he reached around her slim waist, his large fingers tugging the green ribbon free, “you will not have need of this.” He tossed the soaked sash aside, and sauntered over to snatch a fresh, white towel from a nearby stack. He gently placed it in her hands before adding, “The decision is your own.”

“Th—thank you, Dear Leader.”

“I will grant you privacy while you decide.” 

She heard his footfalls walk towards the other side of the room. For a moment, she considered he might just be standing there watching her undress. It would not be the first time someone had taken advantage of her blindness. Still, something about the way Dear Leader treated her, and the way his voice always sounded so convincing, made her feel like he truly was not peeking.

Dear Leader was, indeed, worthy of the faith she placed in him. The King had not broken a single promise to the gungi player, nor did he intend to. He stood poised at the edge of a recessed pool; one surrounded by dozens of lush and exuberant plants. The area had been formed as though it were in a mystical and deeply recessed cavern, one where jungle life had somehow burst through the walls, eager to conquer and claim the luxurious sanctuary. Nine large boulders had been carried into the oasis and placed as though they were ancient and organic. They created a ring around the pool, some pointing high towards the stone ceiling and others placed like fallen logs, effective seats for those not ready to descend into the heated, beckoning waters.

The King looked to the ceiling, the hazy glow of manmade skylights shimmering in from above. Removing his vest and tossing it aside, he crouched down to feel the warmth of the natural bath. His hand moved slowly, the soothing heat enticing him to dip his palm even deeper. 

He knew he needed to wait for the blind woman. That is, if she decided to join him. Glancing at his rippled reflection, he smiled fondly at the golden crown of flowers still resting atop his head. He carefully removed the handcrafted halo, inspecting what damage the indoor storm had wrought. Several petals had been beaten away by the crashing, sloshing rain. Still, even with its obvious imperfections, he thought the mangled crown had beauty to it.

“Su—Supreme Leader? I’m…I’m ready.”

The King turned his head, silently hoping she had opted to forego the towel. Alas, she swayed there with the white cloth tightly bound to her form, her fingers twiddling against her stomach as she leaned back and forth in a sort of nervous dance. 

Striding over to the hesitant blonde, his eyes hungrily consumed the pale flesh of her exposed collarbones. So delicate and crafted with such absolute frailty. She would be a creature so easily broken. Rendered to nothing with just the faintest touch. He winced at the thought.

“Is this okay?” she questioned; her face blushing darker as his footsteps grew closer. 

“Did I not say to do as you wish?”

She squirmed, “Yes, Dear Leader, but…” she paused before crossing her thin arms to her chest, “but I want you to like it, too.” Her brow furrowed and her pale pink lips pouted.

The King smirked, actually enjoying her exaggerated display. Reaching his hand forward, he deeply cooed, “Give me your hand. I shall guide you.”

Komugi obeyed, her smooth palm meeting with the rough texture of his. Whenever they touched, she felt a sizzle run down her spine and a swelling dizziness right at the base of her mind. There was something in his firm grasp that made her head swim and the room grow soothingly dim. Like a drug easing her doubts and suffocating the pain of her life before.

The slightly fogged water rippled in tiny waves, a stone waterfall trickling down and churning the waters. Komugi could hear the gentle splashes of the water as it fell against a series of small rocks. The bath felt so smooth against her ankles and legs, almost tingling. As he guided her into the recessed pool, the satiny liquid readily welcomed her. Its touch felt like a blanket’s embrace, or perhaps the time she fell asleep in all the wool shorn from dozens of sheep. Something like a cloud begging to cradle her in its billowy warmth. 

She felt the edge of the towel begin to thirstily drink up liquid, the fabric growing heavier as she sank farther within the steamy water. Her free hand moved hastily and clutched it to her bust, suddenly unsure if it was really an ideal accessory here in the bath. 

“Would you like me to sit elsewhere?” he asked, unsure of the woman’s comfort.

“No! Together is fine!” she excitedly exclaimed before hushing herself, her embarrassment evident. “I mean, we might as well stay close, right? Unless you don’t want to be near me. You don’t have to, Dear Leader. I un—.”

“Hush.”

He rested upon a submerged, stone seat near the water’s edge before pulling her beside him. Awkwardly, they fumbled with their hands, neither quite knowing what to do, Komugi feeling ashamed at making the Supreme Leader touch her any longer than he absolutely had to. She stiffly pulled her grasp away and tucked both palms beneath her bottom. They sat there, neither speaking and both faintly blushing, the King grateful no one could see his current state.

Time stretched for what felt like an eternity as both bathers awkwardly kept their thoughts to themselves. Komugi rocked back and forth, contemplating the uncomfortable nature of the towel. It was such a thick, luxurious weave, and while that would be exquisitely comfortable when drying off, inside the water it felt heavy and burdensome. Still, at least it was something, and at least it shielded Dear Leader’s eyes from her ugly form. He may like her in pretty dresses, but surely, he would be offended if he saw how her body truly appeared. She was not art, by any means. She thought back on a past memory, her throat tightening as she heard a man’s callous voice say disappointingly, ‘I guess she’ll do.’

Meanwhile, the King experienced zero thoughts about her undesirable appearance. In fact, it was quite the opposite as he gazed upon her alluring form. His head rested upon his propped arm as he quietly reflected. Being in the water was far superior to his last encounter with the bathing beauty, especially since bubbles were nowhere to be seen. Still, now he had a new concealing nemesis: the towel. There was always something obstructing his scientific observations. He sighed, his tail whipping through the water and crashing through the surface in a sharp snap.

“Eeee!” Komugi screamed, leaping upon the King’s lap at a remarkable speed. She gripped her arms around his neck while he eagerly cradled her squirming form. “There’s something! There’s something in—in the water! An eel!”

The King froze, shocked to realize the woman still had no knowledge of his tail. How could that even be? He figured she had noticed long before now. Ever since she so methodically touched his face, he had not exactly been careful in concealing it. He had simply surmised she either did not care for it or was frightened by the King’s unique quality. He bellowed out a loud, hearty laugh, the abruptness startling Komugi even more.

“My tail?” he guffawed, still immensely amused.

“Your… _your_ _tail_?!” Her eyes grew wide as her mouth hung in shock. 

He swished it through the water with a splash before holding it before the blind maiden, who still sat, unwittingly yet comfortably, upon his lap. Komugi went to reach forward, sensing its presence, before abruptly stopping and turning beat red. 

“Can I…may I touch it?” she quizzed; her voice full of awe. 

“I see no reason why you should not,” he chuckled. “Abstain from touching the tip.”

“The tip…why?”

“I do not desire you injured.”

She nodded, not quite sure if the tail posed her danger or if it was, instead, the Supreme Leader himself. Her hands cautiously grasped at the air, and when she first felt the slick flesh, she jerked her palms away, the texture shockingly unexpected and wholly unfamiliar. He snickered and she resolved to gather her nerve, embarrassed by his laughter. With a determined huff, she advanced, her slim hands coming to firmly grip his tail’s thick girth.

The King swallowed an unanticipated moan, his teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheeks desperately. He did not expect the electrifying sensation that surged through him as she clutched the appendage. With her slim fingers stroking its length his pulse began to quicken, his heart slammed against his chest, and a trickle of sweat formed at his brow before helplessly dripping to the water below. 

His tail felt so smooth as she ran her palm along the surface. It was softer than his arms or chest and she noticed tiny shifts beneath her fingers as it articulated and coiled. “I like it,” she softly mumbled, two fingers gracefully stroking along the length. “Can you hold things with it?”

The King forced a breathy chuckle instead of a lustful moan, sensations still spasming across his body. Even despite her tortuous, lascivious caress, his tail coiled around the girl’s arm with effortless grace. “It is prehensile,” he gulped out, shifting beneath her form.

Komugi shivered as the slippery appendage greedily grasped her arm. It felt both unbelievably good and absolutely terrifying as the muscles noticeably contracted beneath his flesh. She held her breath, her pulse quickening as he released the tight and intimate strangle upon her wrist. His incredible power was apparent as the faintly scaled surface slunk against her open palm before slipping slowly back into the watery pool. She nervously shuttered, absentmindedly leaning deeper into to the Supreme Leader’s embrace.

“Do you have anything else?” she questioned, still in awe.

“Such as?”

“Wings, maybe?”

He nearly snorted at the preposterous question. “Flight is not a skill I possess.”

“That’s too bad,” Komugi sighed, “I bet it’s magical to fly. You could go anywhere. No one could ever make you do anything you don’t wanna.”

“Where would you venture?”

She paused, the question catching her by surprise. “I don’t know. Maybe…maybe wherever you go, Dear Leader?”

The King smirked, his broad finger brushing soaked locks of icy hair from her face. She fidgeted upon his lap, fumbling with her fingers, a shyness now painting all her delicate features. His hand reached forward, carefully cupping her chin in his palm, his thumb barely grazing her tender pout. 

Leading her face towards him, his fingers caressed her alabaster flesh as though it were made of gossamer or glass. Her eyes twinkled as they stared back at him, the gaze so penetrating he imagined she could somehow see deep within his soul. For a moment, he longed to drown there in those starlight pools, lost to everything except her, safe in a sparkling, endless universe.

Komugi felt weak as she leaned her cheek into the Supreme Leader’s open palm. He always touched her so sweetly, like she was precious, like he would despair if she even barely fractured. Her hair shifted as she felt his other hand slowly comb through her wet tresses. Her neck tingled, a longing ecstasy building in intensity. She began to feel a gentle tug, and lost in her intoxicating euphoria, she yielded.

Her lips pressed against his and sound and movement froze. As though they were in a slowly wafting haze, everything surrounding them seemed obscured and distant. Their kiss was chaste, pure, and innocently simple. An honest kiss, soft and yet seeded with hints of powerful longing; of blissful dreams not yet fulfilled. In their rapture, all they could feel was the soft caress of one another’s yearning lips and the needful embrace of their hands pulling the other close. Everything but each other was lost.

She pulled away first, breaking the seal he was still desperate to savor. Her eyes glistened with tears, a drop spilling from the corner and slipping into the hollow of his still placed palm. He rubbed the trickle away with his broad thumb. The entire time his heart ached and urged him to reclaim her kiss.

“Why do you cry?” he choked out in a barely audible whisper, his voice uncharacteristically cracked and broken. “Did I hurt you?”

She faintly shook her head, a grin beginning to pull each corner of her lips. An affectionate smile blossomed as her eyes welled and overflowed with tears. Her hands brushed past the grooves of his crown before tenderly caressing his cheeks. Running a thumb over his supple lips, she exhaled happily, a soft laugh barely heard through her shaky breath. 

The King felt baffled. He had the girl securely bound in his embrace, and yet for some reason, she cried so softly. Stranger still, these tears did not appear the same as the sorrowful sobs before. They did not bubble and boil over in agony or shame. Instead, they seemed like a sweet release, like they were something valuable she had been saving secret all her life.

Her assent was slow and steady as she leaned down to, once again, brush her lips against his. Her palms moved down his neck and to his exposed shoulders, sliding against the firm, textured surface in sinfully slow strokes. She was driven by a confidence she had never felt before, something drunkenly joyful and blissfully secure. She reveled in the sweet taste of his supple flesh as he wantonly returned her sweet gesture with greater force.

He parted his mouth, her lower lip sliding within its welcoming warmth. Her taste was honeyed and different from anything he had ever indulged in before. He found himself craving more, his hand tangling within her hair as he pulled her entire body closer to his own, causing the tightened towel to pull and unfurl.

She gasped in shame, her lips retreating from his as she swiftly reclaimed the soaked cloth in her tightened fist. She looked like she would burst, scrunched up on his lap and trembling. “I’m sorry, Dear Leader.”

“For what?” he mumbled, struggling to escape his intoxicating, lustful euphoria.

“The towel fell, and I don’t want to offend you, Dear Leader.”

“How would that offend me?” he strained to understand her meaning, his hands moving to fervidly reclaim her face. 

“I’m not…I’m not good enough for you, Supreme Leader!”

Her words broke him free of his lustful yearning. He looked into her eyes, both near sobbing as she shamefully trembled in his arms. He felt ill for a moment, unsure of what to do and desperate to make her happy, once more. He had no idea what to say, and so he just said the way he truly and honestly felt.

“I deem you worthy.”

Her entire world stilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! I loved reading and responding to your comments. You're all so supportive and it means the world to me! I hope you'll all like the next chapter. Things are about to heat up...considerably.


	19. Flood of Passion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: This chapter is intimate. I honestly don't think it's anything more than you would see in some Hollywood films, though. (This is not the smut chapter. Don't worry, I see your DMs and I promise it will be here soon. Lol. UPDATE: It's Chapter 23.)

_Gorgeous sketch by the amazingly talented[Nomi](https://twitter.com/gnomster_nome)!_

She had never been worthy. She had never been anything except for burdensome. Now, here she was, in the arms of a man who decided she was worth more than just ridicule and revulsion. Furthermore, it was not just any man who cradled her form like it was something to protect and cherish. This was the Supreme Leader of the Republic of East Gorteau, and perhaps more importantly, a powerful youkai. 

Every inch of her being seemed to be frozen, caught in a sort of warped time-skip where her body hummed in a muddled mix of shock and joy. She could hear him breathing, his hand tenderly massaging her waist as he waited for a response, _any_ response. Could she brazenly gamble and give into her passions? Why didn’t he see that she was not worth such affection, that she had no true value? Still, what if he, in all his superior and mystical glory, could perceive something in her she could not? What if all the others were wrong about her?

It would be greedy to want more when she had already been given so much. So many things had been stolen from her throughout her life: her joy, her dreams, her dignity. Now, she had a glimpse of what it would be like to have each of those things restored. To think that someone, _anyone_ , would ever kiss _her_ , and that it was not just some cruel prank or a beautiful dream she would soon wake from and mourn. 

She was not born to be happy, and her lot in life was one she had long ago accepted. Still, maybe just this once, she could try to claim something nice. Maybe, she finally was worthy. Maybe, just maybe, it was her chance to be brave. 

She was suddenly aware of her own unsteady breathing and the labored heaving of her breasts beneath the clinched towel. His hand had moved to caress her face and the sensation of that large palm against her skin made her heart thump in erratic beats. The moment began to feel pivotal, and her next move seemed to be the one that would set the rest of their match in motion. 

Before realizing which strategy she had even played, Komugi’s lips crashed passionately against Dear Leader’s. 

The King’s body sizzled as she forcefully claimed his kiss. His hands moved to grasp her tighter, his fingers intertwining with her hair as his tongue slipped into her parted mouth. A fiery lust erupted between the two, each struggling to force their body closer to the other. Their hearts fluttered, skin tingled, and adrenaline swiftly pumped. His agile tail coiled behind the small of her back and the stinger firmly planted itself into the stone side of the onsen, effectively locking her form flush against his own. She gasped at the sound, the King using the opportunity to plunge his tongue deeper against her own.

Somehow, in all their carnal chaos, the girl had come to straddle his lap, and the sensation of her thighs grinding against his hips was overwhelming. Against his own volition, his hands firmly grasped her rear through the thick cloth, squeezing and kneading her soft flesh with his powerful fingers. She moaned into his mouth, the sound causing his eyes to spring wide and his heart to skip beats. _That sound_. That was new, and _he needed more_.

His tail constricted, the muscles tightening against the small of her back, forcing her spine into an arch that pulled her mouth away from his lips. Her head reared back and the silky skin of her sternum and collarbones became readily exposed to the King. A hand greedily moved to the nape of her neck, his lips falling upon her creamy flesh in a barrage of ardent kisses and gentle nips, each one drawing forth soft mewls from the woman. Lost in his lust, he firmly gripped onto her rear as he stroked his wet tongue along the delicate line of her collarbone, a deep and breathy moan vibrating from far inside her throat, driving him wild with desire.

_sire…_

His lips reclaimed her own, his hand still grinding her against his lap. She moanfully gasped as the towel began to ride up, the King hungrily swallowing the provocative sound.

_Sire…_

Strange sensations began to course through his body, his muscles tensing as everything grew hot and _hard_. His tongue pushed against the woman’s, demanding the siren’s sultry surrender.

“ ** _Sire?!_** ”

His eyes rushed open, irises ablaze as he realized his Royal Guard was near. Swiftly, he pulled the girl from his lap and used his body to shield her from sight, his tail rising out of the water ready to strike.

“ ** _What_**?” the King growled, his words dripping with hot poison. 

“Sire, there’s a problem.”

“ **Then handle it you imbecile**.”

“Sire, the palace is flooding.” Youpi’s voice was coming from the corridor but it began to grow closer.

“ **STOP** ,” the King’s voice boomed, startling the small woman behind him, “ **Do. _Not_. Enter**.”

“Yes, Sire. Forgive me.”

The King looked to the stone ground surrounding the pool and saw a small stream of water trickling in from where the onsen entrance stood. It was hardly anything of concern. “ ** _Leave_**. Do _not_ bother me with ridiculous trivialities. Disturb me again and it will be your _final_ mistake.” His voice lowered to a vengeful taunt, “Do not _dare_ make me repeat myself.”

“Yes, Sire. As you wish.”

The King could hear Youpi’s loud footsteps as he turned and began to journey back up to the atrium. Why were these idiots bringing such unimportant matters to his attention? Didn’t they understand he was currently engaged? Their very existence was growing bothersome. Did he even really _need_ Royal Guards?

The King trembled in irritation and anger, his tail still swaying menacingly in the air like a perturbed cobra. He heard a small splash, and he realized the girl was still tucked away on the seat behind him. His fury began to wane, comforting thoughts of the woman replacing malice and madness.

_Fantastic sketch by the awesomely talented[FrenchUnicorn](https://twitter.com/LeFrenchUnicorn)!_

Komugi was slumped against the wall of the bath, her knees pulled up and tucked. She was so small her entire body fit on that shallow bench. The King smiled, watching as the blushing girl blew bubbles into the water, her face partially submerged. 

“I trust I have caused no offense?”

Komugi stopped burbling bubbles. With her thick brows raised and eyes still shut, she turned towards the King. She hastily popped up, the water sloshing around her as she hurriedly started waving her hands in front of her face. “No, of course not, Supreme Leader!”

The King glanced over to the trickling water that was now softly dribbling into the hot springs pool. “Still, I gave my word I would not commit any offensive acts. Perhaps, I should offer an appropriate apology…”

She immediately remembered the King breaking his own arm. “No, no—no, no, Your Majesty! Please, it wasn’t offensive! I—I, um, I,” her face wildly blushed to the shade of a cranberry, “I enjoyed it.”

Her acknowledgement made the King swell with pride. With a confident smirk, his tail wantonly wound around the girl. She squeaked as the coil tightened and she was lifted out of the water and dropped in Dear Leader’s arms. He cradled her on his lap, his tail slowly slinking back into the steamy waters. With a confident grin he leaned in, eyes locked with her nervous, blue orbs. 

“Then,” his voice plummeted to impossibly deep tones as he let his hungry lips brush against hers, “let us resume.”

* * *

“But what was the King _doing_?”

“Eh, I don’t know. I guess gungi or something.”

Pouf snapped the atrium control manual shut, tossing it next to the panel of glowing buttons and switches. He groaned, anguish in his eyes. “They don’t have a game board in there! What is he doing with that woman?!”

“Go check yourself.”

“You know I can’t! The King has already made that abundantly clear. Regretfully,” Pouf sighed in utter defeat, “it _had_ to be you.”

“Yeah, guess so. Did hear some noises.”

Pouf froze, his face contorting in absolute horror, “ _noises_?”

“Heh, heh. Yeah, loud ones. Maybe torture? He might have finally gotten sick of losing. The King wouldn’t let me get too close.”

Pouf smiled warmly for a moment, a blissful vision waltzing through his mind of that girl getting her troublesome, snotty head swiped clean off by his glorious King. That peasant was not even worthy of being a meal for His Royal Majesty. Her corpse should just be left to rot, an example to any lowly human who dares to get too close to the magnificent Chimera King. 

Yes, perhaps Youpi is correct and the King finally rid them of that awful mutt. Surely, today he was triumphant against the vile beast. He must have beaten her at gungi and then marvelously beaten her to death! 

_Unless_ … 

Pouf wept in torment, his tears flowing freely as he grimly swayed and spun. His graceful palms flew up to his eyes in tormented gestures, each finger splayed in sheer horror. ‘What if those noises were the sounds of…of… _mating_?’ The butterfly chimera howled in sorrow. No, his King was far too high caliber to besmirch himself with the likes of simple, human trash. Surely, he, the mighty and supreme One True King, would not stoop so low as to actually touch that _thing_! His anguished cries rang out, reverberating off the atrium walls.

“You okay?”

Pouf settled himself, brushing off his sleeves with long, graceful sweeps. “We just need to do more.”

Youpi grunted, confused about what else they could do. He looked around the atrium at the flooding they had caused, the streams overflowing and consuming the golden blooms. The gungi board was in danger of being swept away soon, along with everything else, it seemed. 

Pouf assumed the King would leave the girl once finding out his palace was in watery peril. Much to his chagrin, the King did not care. The butterfly chimera paced again as he tried to figure out what would get the King to leave wherever that corridor may lead. It apparently had to be something drastic, but not something that would automatically be traced back to the Royal Guards. 

“Of course!” Pouf exclaimed, twirling joyfully like a lithe and nimble dancer. He walked over to the control panel and ripped the frayed manual out of its small nook. Youpi watched on, utterly confused.

“Here is our answer,” Pouf mumbled smugly, his long, graceful finger pointing to an open page of the tattered text. He turned to the panel and pressed three buttons in steady succession. The sprinkler system stopped.

“So, we aren’t flooding it then?”

“Au contraire,” Pouf rebutted, a devilish smile spreading from ear to ear. There were three loud knocks before the sprinklers began to groan. “Water for plants is not fast enough…but water for fire…”

The watering system erupted. Pouf had punched an emergency override code into the system, increasing the water output significantly. Youpi and Pouf watched, both manically grinning as destruction rained down upon the indoor forest. The King would be forced to respond. _Soon_.

“And just to be thorough,” Pouf smized, his brow arching as he tossed the manual into the watery mess. He watched gleefully as the current swept it away, “We don’t want the King wondering why we couldn’t just shut things down.”

“Heh, heh. That room is lower than this one. The water was already leaking in.”

“ _Perfect!_ ”

* * *

Komugi felt exhilarated. For quite some time now, she had assumed she was dead. How else would such beautiful things happen to her? This is obviously her precious afterlife, a reward for keeping her family fed. She had no idea how she met her inevitable fate, but she was thankful for her demise. Perhaps, she fell from a cliff. Perhaps, her father finally lived up to his ominous and persistent threats. The way her life ended, be it gruesome or kind, made little difference to the gungi champion. This life after death was far better than any existence she would ever know in the living realm. 

Over the past few days, she had eaten more food than she would in a month’s time, she had worn gowns that cost much more than her family’s entire wardrobe combined, she slept on a luxurious bed with _real blankets_ instead of hay and a filthy, torn potato sack. Most importantly, she had spent so much precious time with Dear Leader.

The Supreme Leader was so kind and so generous and so incredible. Never had any human ever treated her with such respect. The only time she felt faint glimmers of success and value were when she won gungi tournaments. Still, that was short lived since her family would immediately take her winnings and leave her with nothing but snide remarks. Last time, her father verbally degraded her with the ultimatum of speeding up her wins or not eating. She went to bed hungry that night, softly crying against the gungi board she cradled in her arms, her only friend.

She was not hungry now. Not for food and, most definitely, not for affection. The way Dear Leader held her made her mind weak and fuzzy. She longingly mewled against his tongue as she felt his strong palm caress the length of her arm, his broad fingers settling against the back of her slender neck. She had been exploring his firm and sculpted form as well. She found the Supreme Leader especially liked it when her frail fingers ran along his wide shoulders and up the swell of his neck, fingertips settling against the brim of his helmet-like crown.

His tail had curled around her ankle, the grasp firm but nothing the small woman struggled to handle. If anything, it made her feel safe, lost in the secure embrace of such a mighty and fabled creature. As far as Komugi was concerned, He was worth countless human men. He was better than all of them.

She gripped his antenna, the act earning her a passionate growl from deep within the King’s throat. Her other hand lingered down his sculpted arm, fingers sliding over a series of grooves and raised bumps. Something like a long tube. She assumed he must be wearing a sort of adornment; perhaps, a pauldron and gauntlet. Why didn’t he take that off for the bath? His vest was obviously missing.

Her pondering thoughts were broken as she felt something bump against her in the water. Something solid and drifting. She pried her lips from the King’s long enough to gasp out, “Did something fall into the water?”

“Do not concern yourself,” he gnarled, his tongue dragging along her chin before lapping against her sensitive earlobe.

She shuttered at the sensation, her mind still struggling to focus solely on the King. “Dear—Dear Leader, is…is the water higher?”

The King pried one eye open long enough to take in his surroundings. The room had begun to flood, the water level climbing, the recessed pool consumed.

“Flooding…. but you are safe,” he mumbled out before reclaiming her mouth with his own. He began to playfully bite her lower lip.

“Slu—ludding?!” she frightfully exclaimed; her diction slurred as he sucked on her lip. With a wet pop she pulled away. “Don’t you think we should g—g—go then?”

“I care not,” the King replied, his hands eagerly pulling at her trim waist. 

“But…but the water is getting so high!”

The King sighed in frustration before cradling the girl in his arms. With a barely muted thud, the two of them began to rise out of the water and onto one of the high boulders that lined the bath. His tail lowered them down gracefully before retracting out of the water and possessively coiling around both himself and the girl. 

“Solved,” he smirked before continuing their passionate osculation.

They continued to kiss and innocently fondle one another, Komugi’s wet towel dripping water onto the flooded ground beneath them. She grew more and more nervous as she heard larger objects fall and shift around her. When the water swelled high enough to gush over her foot she whined, a claustrophobic panic taking over. 

The King opened his eyes, surveying the chaos around him. Shelves had begun to drift and topple over; bottles and bowls were floating like tiny boats on a stormy sea. It seemed even Poseidon himself wanted to ruin the King’s newfound fun. He groaned, wondering why his Royal Guards had to be so stupid and undeniably incompetent. Was the Queen only capable of producing one brilliant offspring?

With a defeated huff, the King lifted the woman into his arms and jumped down into the water. It sloshed against his thorax, barely reaching the girl who now nestled against his sculpted shoulder. He knew that when the water got too high, he could have just escaped out through the skylights or blown a hole in the side of a wall, but she seemed to be genuinely distraught, and for some bizarre reason, that actually bothered him. 

She clung to his neck as he waded up the masonry corridor. She could hear the water violently gushing in from either side, the Supreme Leader easily strolling through the forceful current. They stepped out into the open air of the atrium, cold rain splashing angrily against her face. 

She felt like they exploded out of the water, the Supreme Leader lowering her to sit on the roof of the gazebo. Around her, she could hear thousands of tiny splashes as the swollen streams hungrily consumed the plants. She shivered in the cold storm, wishing to feel the Supreme Leader’s warmth against her body once more.

The King glanced around, marveling at how disastrous the inundation had gotten. The gungi board was nowhere to be spotted, and neither were the beautiful flowers the human had so zealously admired. Now, the atrium swirled in confused, crashing waves, koi fish triumphantly swimming throughout their vast ocean paradise.

“Remain here,” he told the trembling woman, “I will summon Pitou to your aid.”

“Wait! Don’t leave me, Dear Leader! Please!”

The King leaned down, brushing his fingers against her matted, drenched hair. She looked so miserable there scrunched up on the scratchy gazebo shingles, her heavy towel barely covering the sensitive areas he had yet to see. 

“I need to cease this flooding. Do not fret. I will have Pitou ready you for gungi.”

She smiled warmly through the barrage of icy raindrops, the expression unexpectedly inspiring a harsh ache within the King’s chest. For a moment he considered staying by her side, but he did need to remedy this mess if his guards were too stupid to end the disaster themselves. He caressed her face admiringly before springing off the gazebo and into the waters below.

* * *

“He doesn’t seem to care,” Youpi stated bluntly.

Pouf refused to even answer the beastly ant. His thoughts were panicked. He paced back and forth, his eyes dripping with hot, tortuous tears. Both he and Youpi now stood in water, the flooding reaching up and claiming the once dry platform. Pouf’s sopping wet shoes made him miserable.

Youpi kept staring into the water, an actual thought twisting his brow. The novel expression surprised Pouf and the butterfly chimera's curiosity needed to know the reason. “What is it, Youpi?”

“Heh,” he raised a hand to his head, scratching his temple, “do we know if the King can swim?”

Pouf wailed and howled in terror. _Could the King swim_? Surely, he, the most perfect being in all of creation, could! _Right_? **_Right_**? 

“I will dive in and save our King!” Pouf announced, kicking aside his shoes and tearing his silken shirt from his body. He readied his long, lean form to leap into the raging waters.

Youpi began to follow, “Hold on Pouf. I’ll joi—”

Like a crocodile on the hunt, and with barely a splash, the King came leaping out of the murky waters. He landed squarely on the platform, his tail slamming back against the flood as his eyes locked onto the two Royal Guards, two boiling orbs of rage and fury lit violently within his skull.

“Sire!” Pouf cheered; relieved joy obvious in his tone. He looked around, noticing the pesky human was nowhere to be seen. A euphoric smile consumed his elegant features, “So glad you’re safe, Your Majesty! I was just about to div—"

**THWAP! THWIP! SCHLINGGGG!**

Pouf froze in shock, realizing it was the second time today he had been so mercilessly bashed by the King. His umber eyes bulged while his own citrusy blood pooled fresh on his tongue. He glanced over to Youpi, his fellow Royal Guard now donning a long and gushing cut along his arm. The water began to run blue from their blood.

“You have **_one_** chance,” the King hissed through boiled breaths, “to save your miserable lives. Why were the girl and I disturbed?” 

Pouf swallowed back bile, disgusted by the King’s wording. Hopefully, the woman had at least drowned. He could gladly face death knowing that blind banshee was finally zero threat to his magnificent King. 

“Sire,” Pouf desperately expressed, “we can’t seem to shut off the human-manufactured downpour. We’ve tried everyth—”

Pouf gasped as the King’s tail came barreling towards his head. He tightly clinched his eyes, waiting for death, and overjoyed it was at the hands of such a flawless King. Instead, he heard a crash, electric sizzles, and the deafening sound of silence as all rain stopped. He slowly opened his eyes, the King’s long and taut tail suspended beside his own skull. He followed the length with his eyes only to find the stinger deeply crushing the smoking control panel into the atrium wall. 

“I should kill you,” the Ant King growled, “but I need a few imbeciles to clean up this mess.”

“Yes, Sire,” both guards yelped in unison. 

“You are not permitted to move from **_this exact spot_** until Pitou says otherwise. I expect this disaster sorted by evening. Do not disturb me for _anything_. Solve any problems yourselves, even if it means your deaths.”

“Yes, Sire.” Their voices still quavered.

The King began to storm away from the two Royal Guards, rage still evident in the fierce brandishing of his tail. He had almost reached the door when he abruptly stopped, “Pouf.”

The Royal Guard nervously responded, “Yes, Your Majesty?” 

The King turned his head, an amused grin on his face. “Find my vest in the flood.”

Pouf responded that he would, his voice quaking as he realized the King was not wearing his usual garment. His eyes roamed over the spectacularly sculpted back of the Chimera King in absolute awe. A nauseous feeling, however, swelled in his throat and he tried to swallow down the mounting doom. He watched as the King strolled away, the ant’s amused chuckle haunting and terrorizing Pouf’s mind.

“Heh, heh. Eh, you don’t think the King took his vest off so he and that girl—”

“Quiet!” Pouf screeched, his eyes already beginning to overflow and drip into the chilly water. He stared at the now slammed door that separated him from his King. This was yet another failure he would need to atone for through his ultimate demise. He intended to honor that self-imposed sentence as soon as the King rightfully reigned supreme. 

While Pouf sobbed into defeated waters, Komugi rested atop a gazebo that was out of sight and sound of the Royal Guards. She smiled, the sunlight warming her face as she began to dry and wait. She ran her tongue across her lips, Dear Leader’s taste still lingering. She sighed contently, feeling as though she had finally won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Sticking around for the sequel? I want your thoughts:**
> 
> There are so many directions book two could take, and I like way too many of them. Therefore, I figured it’s only right to ask all of you. After all, I couldn’t have created “Stay” without your support. When I’m feeling down or insecure, I reread your comments and that gives me the boost I need to write another chapter. You all really have given me an amazing gift. I've never had much confidence in my life. I really do appreciate all of you!
> 
> Here are the options I’m thinking about. If you would, please leave me a comment with your favorite. Or, if you have something not listed here that you think would be amazing, let me know. All these ideas would begin directly after Komugi and Meruem survive the palace invasion. Due to the nature of their deaths, I will sadly be unable to save the Royal Guards:
> 
> \- They run off together and live in hiding  
> \- They run off together and have a child or maybe even a few (this one is the current leader among my MeruKomu friends)  
> \- World travel AU where the two explore places in HxH  
> \- They’re outed somehow and I bring in HxH politics and the Hunter Association  
> \- OC antagonist with a fully-fleshed origin story that fits into the HxH world  
> \- Something awesome you’re going to explain to me in the comments 
> 
> Thank you everyone! You all mean so much to me! I hope this chapter entertained all of you and that you're looking forward to the next one :)
> 
> **There are still, at least, 11 chapters to go for "Stay." New chapter coming soon.**


	20. Awakening

The black marble floor of the throne room glistened in the diffused, orange light of the setting sun. Raised atop an ivory platform, the King sat upon his ornate throne and reflected on the events of the chaotic day. Nothing was making sense anymore, and this maelstrom of emotions was beginning to irritate him.

She felt so soft. His thoughts all wanted to focus on _that_ , the daydreams cascading through his mind and whirling about, everything so absolutely satisfying. Holding her in his arms felt like surrendering, but it was a defeat he was happy to succumb to. He had to touch her so gently, like she was a crystal goblet that would shatter if even slightly too much pressure were applied. To enjoy her, he needed to drink with absolute care. 

All humans were frail, but this one was even more so. It made no sense for him to long for her touch, and it was ludicrous to even consider being with her. Genetically speaking, she was possibly one of the most poorly suited mates the Ant King could consider. She was pathetically weak and so easily ruined. Furthermore, she was blind, a condition the girl had already admitted to experiencing since birth. A condition that Pitou claimed could even be hereditary. 

Still, she intrigued him. Earlier, he asked the cat chimera if healing such an affliction were possible to do _today._ She seemed genuinely worried while telling him it was most likely not. At least, not without a few spare parts she would need to procure. 

Though, that may be for the best. After all, the woman might like the way he felt beneath her gentle, roving hands, but would she like the way he looked? He glanced down at his segmented joints and hardened exoskeleton. He knew he was positively perfect, but he wondered if she would be able to assess his superb form accordingly. After the selection, perhaps, he would address the issue. If she _swore_ to stay, no matter how gruesome her foolish, underdeveloped human mind perceived him, perhaps her sight would be a gift worth bestowing.

He glanced up, hearing the rhythmic beat of footsteps growing nearer. The elegant patter of leather-soled dress shoes immediately informed him it was Pouf. He silently groaned. He was not in the mood for the butterfly.

“Enter,” he bellowed, already annoyed.

Pouf sashayed in with the King’s vest carefully suspended from a luxurious, plush-lined hanger. “Sire, I have found your vest, as instructed. It was an honor to be the one you trus—”

“Bring it here.”

“Ye—yes Sire, anything you wish.” The ant increased his speed, hastily moving to kneel before the throne, the hanger presented like a fabled and priceless treasure. “I took the liberty of making sure it was cleaned and pressed. I know that you only desire the best, Your Majesty.”

 _The best._ The King’s thoughts trailed off. Was this girl the _best_ he could acquire? No, she was incontestably not. Still, a quality about her felt invaluable. Like she was oddly _exceptional_.

“Sire?”

The King spun away from his wandering thoughts and glared at the Royal Guard. Pouf was now standing near the edge of the carved, ivory platform, eagerly holding the vest open and waiting for the King to slip his chiseled arms inside. 

Disinterested in the prospect of being so close to the guard, the King instead swiped his long tail through the air. It came to within an inch of the cropped garment, the stinger waiting. Pouf's expression hinted at genuine disappointment as he carefully hooked the vest on the metal spike. He gazed shamefully to the floor as the King roughly snapped his attire free of his tail and casually slid it on.

“The gungi player. See to it she is fed and then brought to me.”

“Your Majesty, I’ve _already_ fed that girl once today.” He felt an upsurge of boiled jealousy flood his chest and throat. Why was his King always paying attention to that _abhorrent human_?

“Do not defy me, Pouf. _I will **not** repeat myself_.”

Pouf fell to his knees. “Never, my King. I am eternally your servant and here to fulfill _any_ of your desires.”

The Royal Guard received no reply from the King. Instead, Pouf saw him breeze past and walk out to the throne room’s balcony. He had not acknowledged his devoted guard with even a simple, passing glance. 

Pouf raised from his kneeling position, his trembling pout hinting at tears to come. With a balletic turn, he pranced out of the throne room, ready to cry and begrudgingly cook.

Meanwhile, the King admired the setting sun, the remaining blues of the sky reminding him of the woman’s piercing eyes, and how he could not wait to soon lose himself within their bewitching depths.

* * *

Pots and pans clattered to the floor of the kitchen, the thundering sound a loud and beastly roar. Within seconds, a smattering of ladled spoons followed their comrades into battle, crashing against the wall in a jarring, raucous chorus. Pouf, frenzied and distraught, collapsed against the prep counter, his hand firmly clinched around a ripe, red tomato. He squeezed hard, the bloody juices seeping between his fingers and dripping to the cold, tile floor.

“Heh, that bad, huh?”

“You don’t understand, Youpi!” Pouf sobbed against the counter; dying tomato still tightly clutched. “That girl is a liability. She’s distracting our great King!”

“Hmm, yeah, guess that might be a problem with the Selection and all.”

Pouf rolled his eyes, dramatically sliding off the polished granite. He spun to face the towering double ovens, his hand falling against his brow as if he would soon faint. “Why am I the only one who sees this vile, visionless tramp for what she _truly_ is?”

Youpi huffed in boredom, this whole production one he had already seen. At least, earlier that day, his fellow guard was entertaining. Pouf had sat there on the muddy ground of the atrium, all the while lovingly hugging the King's drenched vest tightly against his chest, tears streaming from his face as he spoke poetically of what an honor it was to be the one entrusted with such a vital task. He even inhaled deeply against the soaking wet fibers, utterly convinced he could smell the King's "superior scent," whatever that meant. 

Youpi sighed, his thoughts returning to the Pouf's meltdown of the hour. “Why don’t you just poison her?”

The butterfly guard’s head sliced through the air in a fast jerk, eyes annoyed and fixed upon his massive peer. “You think I haven’t thought of that? Don’t be ridiculous! I even spent an entire afternoon digging through that mess of a library until I found a book detailing only the most painful of poisons. Alas, I can’t do it!”

“I don’t get it. I thought you hate the woman.”

“I do,” Pouf spat, “That isn’t the point. The King, in his infinite and superb wisdom, will surely figure out it was me who killed the girl. After all, I’m the hand that feeds the awful beast. What if the poison doesn’t take? Then, I’m dead and that blind beggar will still have her filthy claws sunk into His Majesty. No, I can’t risk it!”

“Heh, then don’t kill her. Just let the King beat her at that game. That’s all he wants. Then, he’ll probably do her in himself. You worry too much.”

“I wish,” Pouf distressingly sighed, “that I could share your naive optimism.”

“Ohhhh, what’s _this_?”

Pouf spun around to find Pitou perched on the kitchen counter, her clawed finger preparing to poke at the dish he had been painstakingly preparing.

“Stop that,” he chided, swiping her hand away with a glossy, rolled-up cookbook. “That meal is for the human, _not you_.” 

Pitou frowned, patting her assaulted hand tenderly. “What is it?”

“A dish that humans seem to find particularly enjoyable. Prime rib. Made from one of their favored livestock breeds. No doubt, something all humans would be accustomed to.”

“Neow, I see.” She went to prod at the tender meat and colorful vegetables once more.

“What did I just say?” he snipped, this time swiping at her with a wooden spoon. “You are too easily distracted! Besides, you won’t want _this_ _one_. I’ve omitted something that is sure to ruin the entire meal.”

“Looks pretty good to me,” Youpi countered, shrugging his massive shoulders.

“Well, it’s **_not_**! I’m serving it _sans_ _jus_. That human will be positively miserable!” He cackled with delight.

“Mmmm, I don’t think she’ll care about whatever that is,” Pitou defiantly hummed.

“What would _you_ know? The human cuisine manual made it very clear: prime rib au jus is an _expected_ combination. _Expected_! Without it, the delicate, culinary experience is surely lost.” Pouf turned his nose towards the ceiling and scoffed, “You take it to her, Pitou. Maybe you can play dress up or whatever mindless human activity is distracting you today.”

The cat chimera wrinkled her nose at the butterfly, fully considering if she should bop him once or twice on his head. Instead, she sprang off the counter in an agile, effortless spin. Picking up the meal, she began to walk towards the door. She had almost reached the kitchen threshold when she loudly taunted, “I bet she doesn’t even know what an ‘odd juice’ is!”

“It’s ‘ _au jus_!” Pouf screeched. He threw the skillet in his hand, barely missing Pitou as she cackled and scurried into the palace hallway. 

* * *

The King was growing impatient. He sat in the massive dining hall where gungi was always played, casually flipping through the pages of a leather-bound book, the cover embossed in gold. It was twilight now, and the thick blanket of night was preparing to tuck the distant mountains and rolling desert plains in for rest. Of course, that still meant little to the Chimera King. Day, night, it did not matter. Constant rest is for the weak and evolutionary challenged. Rest is for humans.

He tossed the book aside and picked up another. This one focused on nautical travel. He roughly flipped through the pages, stopping at a random point. The chapter seemed to outline celestial navigation. The King inwardly jeered, musing on how humans were so oblivious to the very planet they so undeservedly claimed. Furthermore, their ignorance was all due to their inferior construction. Even if she were not blind, the gungi player would still be unable to detect advantageous things like magnetic fields. After all, humans only possess one type of eye. He smirked, marveling at his own unflawed evolution and the extra sensory organ at the base of his neck. No human could ever move too fast for his unparalleled senses.

Tossing that book atop the last, the King stood up to pace. Why was it taking so long to get her ready? He had instructed Pitou to keep everything simple this time. Just feed her, clothe her, and deliver her. At least she should be well-rested given how long this nonsense had drummed on. She was surely tired after how physical this morning was.

 _Physical_. Yes, this morning was rather _physical_. The King thought of her honey-smooth skin delicately sliding against his chest. The way her lips parted and surrendered as his tongue pushed deep against her own. That heady fragrance that began to build the more she moaned, driving him wild with desperate, confusing urges.

“Sire.”

The Ant King spun around and found both Pitou and the woman waiting. The girl was clothed in her own drab garments she had arrived in. Her hair was bound again, and sadly, not loose enough for his fingers to glide through at will. He said to keep it simple, not to do nothing at all. 

“You’re dismissed Pitou,” he monotonously declared, “and ensure no one interrupts us.” His eyes narrowed, tone sharpened, “that _includes_ the three of you.”

“As you wish, Sire.” The cat chimera softly nudged the gungi champion in the King’s direction as she turned to stroll out of the dining hall. She leapt from the balcony, leaving the two alone.

They stood there, neither moving nor speaking. The King kept staring at the girl as she awkwardly swayed, her hands clinched together and fingers twisting in a mix of fear and embarrassment. He had no idea how to address her, and this unfamiliar speechlessness confused him more than anything else had in his existence.

“Ehh, De—Dear Leader?”

“Yes?” he replied in a sound just barely above a whisper.

“Do you…” she sniffed loudly, her nose congested, “did you want to play gungi?”

An odd flutter of emotion made him feel uneasy, “That is the reason I would summon you, is it not?”

“Oh, ye—yes. Of, of course. Then we should play.” 

She sounded disappointed, _didn’t she_? The King analyzed her words, prodding over each syllable as if there were some vital puzzle to solve there in her tone. Was it _he_ who was truly disappointed? 

“I trust you can find your own way,” he bluntly remarked, his voice suddenly harsh and distant. He swallowed, there was a strange tension in the room now. All he wanted to do was walk over and touch her, caress her, kiss her. Why couldn’t he do it? After all, for hours now, _her_ touch and _her_ body and _her_ scent were all his mind could focus on. Why did he now feel like he needed to gain control over his emotions and over the woman?

“Y—Yes, Your Majesty, Sir.”

He was sure of it. That time he heard the disappointment. Perhaps, he was projecting.

The woman walked towards the sound of the King’s voice, assuming that must also be where the gungi board rested. The tapping of her cane echoed as she slowly inched closer. When the sound was finally muffled by abrupt contact with the plush cushion, she froze. The entire time, the Supreme Leader was so unnervingly quiet. Had she done something wrong? She trembled, worried he no longer valued her. She must have done something wrong, and now she would lose him, too.

“Let us begin.”

His tone sounded like that first day she met him. She swallowed hard. Maybe this was not her perfect afterlife. Maybe this, too, was just another cruel joke the world would play. She felt her heart drop against the floor and shatter.

* * *

Hours passed, and still, they played. That heavy tension still loomed in the room, a suffocating fog that threatened to strangle both players. They had only exchanged their plays and nothing more. The girl had been losing hope by the minute, and the King had been caught in a whirl of internal strife. Neither, sadly, acted upon their true desires. 

“2-3-1, Cannon.” The King eyed the petite blonde, desperately trying to analyze her expressions. She gave him nothing, and her emotionless face pushed him deeper into the chaotic mist.

“9-1-1, Fortress.”

The King swallowed, his inability to reach out and touch her beginning to cause a strange pain in his chest. He had to take action before this madness destroyed him. With a heavy, cautious breath, he spoke, “Did Pitou fail to offer you any garments that were to your liking?”

“Ehh?” Komugi replayed the question in her mind before bursting out in a radiant smile. “Oh! Yes, Dear Leader!” she happily chirped. “She brought me so many options, but I just felt like wearing my own clothes, is all. I—I hope it doesn’t offend you, Your Majesty.”

He grinned, her smile filling him with a satisfied rush. She even called him “Dear Leader” for the first time since they began playing. His skin tingled, his tone edged on being too excited. “Good,” he effused, “and no, I feel no offense. In the future, let it be known any garment bestowed upon you is a gift. They are your possessions to do with as you please.”

“R—Really? Thank you, Dear Leader!” 

She blushed to a pleasing shade of red, one that he favored most. Her eyes began to swell with tears, but this time, the King could recognize they were of a joyful variety. His tail began to swish behind him as he grinned wide at her apparent happiness. 

"You were fed well, were you not?"

Her smile beamed wide from ear to ear. "Dear Leader! I had the most amazing meal ever! I can't wait to tell Sir Pouf how much I loved it! He truly is too good to me!"

The King smirked, knowing full well that Pouf had a strange energy towards the girl. He hadn't quite decided if it were truly hostile, but the King definitely knew this woman was not a guest Pouf would take pleasure in serving. 

Their conversations continued to warm. The sky swelled in an ocean of twinkling stars.

* * *

“2-1-3, Soldier.”

“4-5-1, Calvary.”

“8-7-2, Duke.”

“4-3-3, Archer.” The gungi champion announced the move, her unseeing eyes focused and full of drive. 

Their laughter had been replaced some time ago by a steely resolve, and now both players were fully engrossed in their game. It had become a clash of strategic titans, both far more unpredictable than they had been in the past, and yet, one still outshining the other. 

The King puzzled over what to do, these new formations adding an entirely new depth to the game. ‘She continues to relentlessly attack my weak areas,” he thought. 

Her perception was, indeed, growing sharper as each game passed. He made his move, not surprised in the least when she immediately countered him. He reflected upon how she was guiding him towards her way of strategizing, and how he wholly enjoyed it. She truly was a superior exception to her useless species. The challenges she continued to assault him with, were thrilling.

“Dear Leader,” she hummed, her voice unsteady and somewhat dreamy. “I feel…weird.”

He glanced up at the woman, fully expecting to find her weak body flushed with fever and ill. Instead, his breath hitched at the sight. Light was bubbling up around the girl’s fingers as she placed her game piece. **_Nen_**! His mouth instinctively began to salivate despite having no desire to consume her.

“It doesn’t stop,” she continued, her eyes frozen wide. “These wonderful plays are flowing into my head…like a flood.”

‘This means she’s about to get even stronger!’ The thrilling thought throbbed within his mind, a surge of excitement beginning to generate tingles throughout his body. An even greater challenge! Plus, she would need to stay with him even longer! He felt pleasantly warm as he dropped his pieces onto the board, conceding defeat. 

“May I…take a little break?”

“Is there something wrong?” She had never asked for a break before.

“No, Sir. I’d like to record all these moves that are flooding into my head.”

He felt utterly confused by the blind girl’s claim. Curious, he inquired, “with those eyes?”

“Oh, I just need to lay out the pieces. I never forget a play if I physically arrange the pieces.”

He swallowed hard. She could remember every play she has ever made? It seemed so impossible, and yet if anyone could, surely it was this woman.

“All right, go.”

“Thank you, Dear Leader, Sir.”

He watched as she began to walk away, her cane tapping against the ground. Did this woman even realize how remarkable she was? ‘ _Who is she_?’ the thought echoed in his mind.

“Hey!” he called out, far more casually than he ever had before. “What is your name?”

She turned, her shut eyes falling to where he still rested, her brows slightly knitted together. 

“Mm—Mine?”

“Who else?”

It’s…Ko—Komugi, Sir!”

“Komugi,” he repeated, committing each syllable to memory. The sound pleased him. 

“And…May I ask what Dear Leader’s name is?”

The question caught the King off guard, his mind immediately panicking as he realized he had no answer to give. His heart began to thump violently in his chest. His brows raised and lips trembled. How could _he_ , the most amazing creature to have ever existed, not have a name?

“De—Dear Leader, Sir?”

“You’re dismissed,” he coldly blurted out, his mind reeling. He failed to notice her palpable sadness as she frowned and turned to leave the room, silent tears beginning to well within her eyes. The sound of her cane was just white noise. Her image simply flitted away. 

‘This can’t be,” he vexed. ‘Even that human girl has a moniker, and yet, _I do not_?!” His blood seemed to freeze within his veins. How could he not realize this until now? 

He rose to his feet, determination coursing up and down his spine. Perhaps, the Royal Guards knew the answer to this revelation. He could give the girl his name as soon as he knew it himself. He _must_ know. 

He bellowed out for Pitou as he swiftly stormed towards the balcony. 

**' _What should Komugi call me?!'_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More random thoughts: Who mowed the yard while the chimera ants occupied the palace? They had it for over a month! Sure, maybe it was just one of the lower ants, but I like to imagine it was Youpi out there on a riding lawnmower, straw hat atop his head, colorful and crazy straw shoved in a hard seltzer.
> 
> EDIT: This makes me so stupidly happy!! MadPuppetArt drew lawnmower Youpi!! I'm so happy :') Thank you!!! <3  
>   
>  _Check out their art:[@art_puppet](https://twitter.com/art_puppet) **(NSFW)**_
> 
> ~*~
> 
> Thank you all so much for all of the recommendations for the sequel!!! It seriously meant SO MUCH to me! I can't believe a story I wrote makes all of you happy like this. That knowledge truly is something that brings me great joy. This is our story. Without all of you, I never would have been able to write this much <3 
> 
> I've begun outlining the sequel. I think it will have something for everyone! 
> 
> **Are you interested in joining an awesome, supportive family full of MeruKomu shippers? Join our Discord:** [MeruKomu Madness](https://discord.gg/PPVe2WU)
> 
>  **Are you 18+ and interested in MeruKomu erotica? Find it here:** [A Special Gift](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26281147)


	21. Point of No Return

This was _impossible_. Anxiety consumed the King, the overwhelming pandemonium drumming through his mind as he emerged upon the central tower balcony. He steeled himself, fully aware he needed to appear calm and in control while addressing his guards. 

Pitou landed at the King’s feet in a skillful crouch, immediately bowing her head in respect. “Yes? At your service.”

“Pouf! Youpi!”

The King heard their responses immediately, the two guards dutifully making their way to bow alongside the cat chimera. They each waited for instruction, the pale, white light of the full moon illuminating their unexpected meeting.

“Pouf,” the King stated, obvious contemplation lingering in his tone. “Yes…You are Pouf.”

The guards all remained bowed, each trying to surmise why the King was acting so strangely. There was a pause as they exchanged peripheral glances, each unsure if the others knew something they themself failed to comprehend.

“Then, what is _my_ name?”

A palpable confusion surged within the mind of each guard. The King wants a name? 

* * *

Komugi climbed the stone steps along the West tower’s spiraling staircase. It was so much easier when Dear Leader was near. He always seemed to know when certain tasks were more difficult than others, and he always made sure to help her in ways that never made her feel like a burden or like she was useless. There was a kindness in the way he handled her. Well, usually, at least.

‘Why is the Supreme Leader acting like this?’ she silently fretted, hot tears streaming down her alabaster face. Even something so simple, something like knowing his name, seemed to be above her. Was she honestly so lowly in his eyes? 

The final step evened out and became flush with the long, chill corridor to her room. The tapping of her cane reverberated off the stone walls as she walked along, her stomach twisting in a tight and sickly knot. She needed to be more careful. If she upsets Dear Leader too much, their gungi games might stop. It was time to be even less of a burden than she already was. If she lost him, a part of her felt she would lose everything. Even gungi felt a little more hollow without Dear Leader playing beside her.

Komugi pushed the heavy door of her guest quarters open, ready to memorize the new moves that were still flooding her expanding mind. Moves that, she hoped, would impress the Supreme Leader, and earn her a prize: _his name_. 

* * *

How could their answers be so agonizingly useless? The King puzzled over the conundrum, reflecting upon the guards’ proposal to simply ordain his own name, despite the act being akin to assigning a mere sobriquet. That is _not_ what he requested even in the slightest. Although, it may arguably be the necessary solution since none of them possess knowledge of his given moniker. That is if he even owned one upon his birth. He pushed his desire to the side, and instead, decided to use his Royal Guards as an audience for his recently muddled thoughts.

“Komugi’s whole body was bathed in light,” the King confided.

Pouf immediately felt confused by this name, bile bubbling up in his throat as he feared the worst. “Komugi?”

“The blind girl.”

Pouf’s breath hitched; his worst fear indeed realized. ‘He bothered to learn her name?’ He accepted the catastrophe with mounting terror, the swelling disgust crashing against his mind like a towering tidal wave against an insignificantly small ship. All his joy capsized, the wave overpowering any hope he had left.

The Royal Guard’s mind started strobing with all his opportunities where he failed to kill the woman. Vaguely, he heard the King continue his monologue, only stopping to ask Pitou an unexpected and alarming question. ‘Could…could that beast also possess Nen? And…is our King concerned the human may have been killed in the Selection?’ Pouf cringed, his lip trying to quiver against his teeth, but his mind focused on not revealing his true beliefs. ‘Yes, she would have died, Sire. She _should_ die. The human is beneath you, My Liege!’ His thoughts erupted in anger, a visceral geyser shooting towards the heavens.

“I learned from Komugi that different kinds of ‘strengths’ exist.”

‘Sire, please don’t say any more!’ Pouf felt the rhythmic pounding of his heart against each eardrum, their species’ funeral dirge growing in strength and tempo, a chorus of panicked wailing reverberating within his haunted mind. ‘You can’t learn anything from a _human_ , Your Majesty! Not from something so lowly and morally disgusting. They’re just _food, my King_! **_Food_**!’ 

“I killed a child. She perhaps could have one day been superior to me in some aspect, and I plucked off that bud. Just like that.”

Pouf felt his pulse quicken, his eyes welling with tears of desperation and dread. Was the King actually questioning the killing of humans? Of _livestock_?! This _must_ be stopped.

“I…Sire…” Pouf’s frazzled words were abruptly interrupted.

“ _I. Am._ **_KING_**.”

Pouf trembled, an upsurge of thick and suffocating Nen washing over all three of the Royal Guards. The butterfly chimera felt like he was drowning, mouth hung as his eyes beheld his mighty King in almost supernatural awe. What force! What supreme magnificence!

The King loomed there, mouth pulled wide and slickened teeth glistening as he manically laughed into the cold air of the night. The guards marveled at his power as an eagle’s screech punctuated the Ant King’s chaotic cackling. No human could stop His Majesty!

* * *

Resting on the floor beside a skillfully carved gungi board, Komugi unexpectedly shivered, not quite understanding the reason why. She moved the white gungi piece forward, the Archer sliding over the deeply recessed line of the game grid with a satisfying snap. A new play was now carefully noted in her mind, forever hers to call upon and command. 

The gungi master felt a thrill each time a novel strategy worked, yet despite that, no number of brilliant, new plays made her feel happy tonight. There was something nagging there at the base of her mind. Something, or rather _someone_ , who could distract her from gungi even though nothing else ever could: The Supreme Leader.

She startled at the clamorous roar of massive wings flapping. Turning her head towards one of the towering windows, she felt a large and intimidating presence. _A hostile one_.

“He—hello?”

* * *

“I nipped a life in the bud for no reason,” the King haughtily proclaimed, an exultant smirk tugging the corners of his mouth, “and what of it? It means _incredible power_!”

Pouf’s chest began to expand with a deeply satisfying breath. He felt a warm upswell of pride for his prodigious and absolute King along with a twist of cold, agonizing shame in himself. The emotions whirled within his heart, a massive maze of confusion building into a chaotic hurricane. His jaw hanging, he realized his folly in doubting His Majesty. The King would not repent and nurture human filth. The King would rise, conquer, and _devour_! 

“Violence,” the King triumphantly bellowed, “is the _ultimate_ force in the world!”

Tears began to sparkle in Pouf’s eyes, a solo drop freeing itself and sliding down his pale violet face. He watched as the King turned and exited the balcony, his stride determined and forceful. Where was his magnificent King going? He decided to find out later. For now, Pouf needed to reflect upon his failure: he doubted the One True King. Another reason to end his wretched life! He truly was of no value when compared to his superb ruler.

* * *

Looming shadows bounced against her bedroom wall, the shape of a vicious, merciless monster cast by streaming starlight. Komugi cowered against the cold, stone floor, her hands held above her head, a massive raptor attacking her frail form with both beak and talons. Harsh tears streamed from her eyes. Each strike of the bird’s massive claws tore open her delicate flesh in a painful, scorching rip. She could taste blood. She needed the Supreme Leader.

‘I can’t call for him,’ Komugi silently cried, her thoughts consumed by absolute devastation, ‘He’s already upset with me. He’ll make me leave him.” 

The tears continued to fall, her hope seeping out like the blood escaping her ripped and scarlet wounds.

* * *

The King ascended the towering, spiral staircase, each step a strong, rhythmic thud as he confidently climbed towards the gungi master’s chambers. He felt alive. _Powerful_. There was an unstable ardor, an intensity, coursing through him. 

A swirling disgust lingered in his twisting stomach, but he ignored it. How could such euphoric feelings be wrong? 

No, it was he, the mighty and supreme Ant King, who had been wrong. Distracting himself with this human, with some silly game, would never actualize his destiny. He was born for control, for power, and she was weakness personified.

‘It’s only gungi,’ he mutely insisted, each word teeming with raw persuasion, ‘It’s just a game after all!” 

Fully scaling the stairs, he began to barrel towards the double doors separating him from the woman. ‘She is kept alive on my whim,’ he confidently reasoned, ‘If I changed my mind, I could kill her right now!” His eyes narrowed in conviction, his willpower absolute. ‘What is holding me back?’

The King repeated to himself that the Sorting is tomorrow. It was time to end this. She had no business in the perfect kingdom of his wise construction. He enjoyed her soft and tender touch, but he would just substitute her with some other courtesan once ultimate control was his. They were all the same! Broodmares and tools to further his lineage. This one was _not_ special. She never was, and he needed to accept that verifiable truth before he lost himself to something so insignificant as a woman. _A human_. 

He felt a strange pang in his chest, the pained thought trying to break through his chaotic bloodlust. He immediately pushed the boiling, singeing feeling to the side, admitting to himself that his fun had now passed. He no longer needed to waste time until the Sorting. There is no longer a use for the girl. She had nothing left to offer him. _Nothing_.

‘Let’s kill her,’ the thought took control of his mind, his manic decree absolute, ‘right now!’

**WHAM!**

The doors flung open at the King’s effortless yet potent shove. His resolve hardened, his tail twitched and prepared to strike the woman down. ‘Quick and painless.’ The thought flitted through his mind in a nanosecond, a desperate plea with himself to offer the woman a final courtesy. Kill Komugi but kill her kindly.

_Eeeech!_

The shrill screech surprised the King, his eyes widening in disbelief. A scene unraveled before him. One of flapping feathers, crimson blood, and Komugi crouching in sheer terror. She was under attack!

**_THWACK!_ **

The eagle’s life concluded in one swift blow, a precise and painless demise. It was an attack prepped for another purpose entirely. For another _creature_ entirely.

Komugi was still hunched over and trembling, hot, salty tears sliding down her porcelain skin and burning as they mixed with the fresh blood of each deep cut. It took a few moments for her safety to even be realized, and even longer to be accepted. She had fully condemned herself to the thrashings of the bird, her most recent thoughts wondering if Dear Leader would miss playing gungi with her. She assumed, sadly, he would easily move on from her death.

“Th—thank you.”

“Why didn’t you call for help?” the Ant King exclaimed, his every word saturated with both genuine concern and stinging irritation. He crouched down before the small woman, his hands freely grasping at her petite form as he checked the damage wrought by the rampaging raptor. “Here…and here! You’re bleeding everywhere!” 

The King’s brow knitted together in frustration; his worry evident in the way he cautiously handled the girl’s numerous injuries. She was so weak and alarmingly fragile. Once again, the King found himself puzzled by how humans survived so long. The fact the species was still living seemed entirely hinged on the fact no apex predator had yet appeared to decimate their numbers. Well, until now, at least. 

“Uh—umm…well,” Komugi’s voice was weak and unsure, the words cracking as she trembled.

“Yes?” he batted back; his tone growing impatient.

“It’s early in the morning so I didn’t want to inconvenience anyone.”

“You are _not_ an inconvenience.” The quickness of his reply startled the King. Even more so, his words were genuine and full of conviction. Why was he behaving so bizarrely? “You are…” he paused, his mind trying to grasp the right words, “an important guest.”

What was he even saying? He was here to _kill_ the girl. It was time to end this farce once and for all. The Selection is here, the humans are marching in waves to meet their judgment by his all-knowing hand, and this blind woman is positively unneeded. 

The girl began to sniff, all her badly brimmed tears breaking free of her eyes and gushing towards her cotton blouse. 

“Why do you cry?” the King hastily inquired, words rich with discomfort and confusion. 

“I’m so sorry,” she began, her lips trembling as she spoke, “Nobody’s ever been so nice to me before!”

Startled at the vociferous roar of thick, rolling sobs, the King stared in flabbergasted alarm. Komugi reared her head back in an arduous wail, her mouth wide as she bawled in earnest. The King staggered back in shock, clambering to his feet so he could survey the woman’s bizarre display. Why did she behave like this after being rescued? The danger has passed! ‘What is this creature?’ His thoughts vexed him, her actions so unusual as he watched her quake and howl before him. ‘What…what do I want to do with her?’ 

In truth, he had no idea. He was supposed to end her. This crushing confusion never should have confronted him, and yet, here he was stunned and unsure of himself. 

An overwrought panic suddenly erupted within his chest. “I…I need to go.”

She stopped wailing, yet thick tears still openly streamed from her bloodshot eyes. A look of absolute fear overpowered her frail features. She began to desperately shake her head and her ice-blue eyes seemed to instinctively lock with his own. It was as though she could see him, and as if she now needed him. More than ever. 

“Pitou,” he began, his jaw still struggling to hinge, his mouth wide and in pained awe, “I will summon Pitou. She…she will come to your aide.”

Komugi tottered forward, her small hand somehow finding his large palm with ease. “Don’t leave me, Dear Leader,” she sobbed, her thin fingers wrapping around his broad thumb. She gazed towards his towering form, her eyes revealing a genuine and desperate need. “Please, stay. _Stay with me_.”

His eyes wide, he struggled with which action to take. He stared at her quaking features, the blood beginning to drip against her dusty-pink skirt, staining it with flecks of crimson. His mind started to scream at him, urging him to take her into his arms and calm her terrified mind. Sadly, he could not. No, instead, he felt an odd bubbling of unfamiliar emotions. It felt akin to disgust, but it was not for the girl. It was towards himself, and that self-directed revulsion distressed the inexperienced King. 

“I will return soon, I promise.”

“No, please! Please, Supreme Leader!”

Komugi tried to cling to his hand, her grip too weak. He easily pulled his palm free and began to step backward and towards the still wide doors of the bedroom. When he reached the threshold, he swiftly turned. He could hear her labored cries as he frantically made his way past the stairs and towards the balcony. His chest ached; his mind begged him to return. 

All the while, Komugi started to crawl on all fours, her face red and swollen with blood and tears. She reached her thin, trembling hands out into the void, desperately searching for his form. Failing, she doubled over and began to sob, her arms held tightly against her aching stomach. She rolled into a fetal position, her mind reeling as she softly sobbed, “Why did you leave me?!”

* * *

The King yelled for Pitou as he stumbled onto the balcony, the cool night air surrounding his form. Immediately, he could sense the Royal Guard, her shadow bounding from tower to tower in the diffused, silvery moonlight. She arrived before the King, bowing deeply. “How may I be of service, Sire?”

“Komugi,” he began, his stoicism cracking, “she was hurt. Go to her room. Heal her.”

The cat chimera paused, unsure if the King realized what he was asking. “Are her injuries potentially fatal? I can’t heal her without lowering my En and—”

“You think I fail to understand that?!” he snapped back, his eyes suddenly boiling with rage. “I will **_not_** repeat myself.”

Pitou wobbled back, his rage catching her off guard. “As you wish, Sire.” 

The King observed his guard racing towards Komugi’s room, her mission clear. When Pitou’s form was fully consumed by the darkness of the corridor, he leapt from the balcony, his tail slamming into the stone as he propelled himself towards the central tower. 

His tail struck a marble column as he entered the throne room, a giant chunk of stone exploding free, dust scattering like ash. His thoughts were still in chaos, totally perturbed and coursing with feverish panic. ‘Why can’t I kill her?’

The thought was so foreign to the Ant King. He could easily kill anyone. _Anyone_. Why would this woman be any different? And now, here he was waiting, his palace’s best line of defense not even active because he had Pitou treating some simple scrapes and bruises. Why did he care about the woman this much? 

‘What if it had been something worse?’ he imagined, the chilling thought piercing him unexpectedly, a metaphorical shiv to his heart. 

No, it will _never_ be anything worse. He would see to it. Between the Royal Guards and himself, even such a frail and breakable creature could remain safe. 

He collapsed against his throne; his head stressfully cradled within his hands. Nothing could ever happen to the girl. “I want her,” he lowly mumbled, his words cracked and hardly above a whisper. He breathed in deeply, his exhale shaky and unsure. 

Looking up, his hands quaked as they folded beneath his chin. A very faint glimmer reflected from his violet eyes as he finally admitted, ‘I need her. ** _I need Komugi_**.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The MeruKomu Madness Discord is blowing up! I can't even express how happy I am to meet so many wonderful shippers! Also, I own merukomu.com and merumugi.com. We will be turning those websites into a wonderful networking site. If you're a MeruKomu fan, you need to join us. The Chimera Ant Army is growing strong!
> 
> Join MeruKomu Madness on Discord:  
> https://discord.com/invite/PPVe2WU
> 
> Also, we have a mafia AU coming out this week here on Ao3 (Meruem is a human mob boss). I hope some of you will be reading our tale and enjoying the amazing art created by our insanely talented members! I will post the story soon <3 
> 
> ~*~
> 
> As for this novel, I am happy to announce the name of our sequel! It will be called "Wherever You Go." 
> 
> Thank you all so much! Your comments and support have meant the world to me. The comments always give me the push I need to attempt the next chapter and I really am thankful for that. I love being able to interact with all of you.
> 
> “Stay" will be two months old in one week. That means two months ago I met my first MeruKomu shipper (FrenchUnicorn) and began this beautiful journey. I hope that all of you can see how much I value and appreciate each of you. I think this is one of the most beautiful communities I've ever encountered. A precious gem.


	22. Sweet Surrender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: adult situations, sexual themes.

  
  
The crisp night air wafted in through an open window, a strong gust fluttering the pages of an old, leatherbound book. It was a token the room’s inhabitant could not use herself, but she felt a sentimental connection to it, nonetheless. After all, it bound her to the person who left it behind. The person who abandoned it.

Pitou watched as Komugi softly cried. All the while, Dr. Blythe diligently worked to erase each cut and bruise. The girl looked absolutely devastated, and the chimera ant found herself prodding through her own mind's curious maze, eagerly assessing the cause. Could such minor abrasions really reduce an adult human to such woeful tears? Pitou bit her lower lip, puzzling over why the King would be so insistent on this hopeless woman’s immediate recovery. After all, they were about to slaughter thousands of humans, many of whom were physically and intellectually superior to the girl sobbing before her. What made this one human so undeniably special?

A soft whine came from Komugi, a Nen needle passing against her cheek as a gash was sealed shut. The moment the last stitch was pulled through, it all vanished. No string, no cut, no evidence of the eagle’s frantic and furious attack.

“Does it hurt?”

Komugi’s eyes bulged, her brow no longer scrunched in worry, “N—no, Ser Pitou. I’m sorry. I just feel nervous is all. I’m—I’m okay.” She paused, seeming to gather her thoughts, “Thank you, Dr. Blythe. You are very kind to heal me like this.” 

The pale patient received no answer from the masterful surgeon. 

“Hmm, Dr. Blythe isn’t really one for talking. More of a silent type. Nyah.”

“Oh.” Komugi's hand awkwardly scrunched the cotton fabric of her dress, the gesture further highlighting her embarrassment.

“Your outfit is bloody now,” Pitou began, her clawed finger pointing towards the many crimson speckles, a self-serving gesture given the girl’s sight. “The ruffle is damaged, too. Would you like me to take that from you tonight? I could clean it and fix the hem.”

“Ehh…”

“I left all those outfits at His Majesty's request. I’m sure there’s something you could wear to bed.”

Komugi awkwardly twisted her hands together as Dr. Blythe stitched a long, bloody cut on her neck. “Ser Pitou…you are so nice to me. You’re…you’re like Dear Leader. Thank…thank you.”

The cat chimera did not know how to respond, her behaviors never intended to be perceived as kind. Everything she did was for the King, and if the girl benefitted from it, so be it. Being compared to the King even made her silently cringe. She was wholly unworthy of such praise. 

All of this was puzzling, and the girl's words didn't quite make sense. His Majesty is _kind_? Pitou thought back to the King's attempt to end her life over a mere suggestion, an act she fully agreed was his natural-born right. Still, she rubbed her cheek, the harsh sting of his strong, prehensile tail easy to recall. How does he treat this human if she constantly insists upon his evident kindness? Could the King have a side to him that, perhaps, the guards would never meet? She frowned a bit; the idea that a human would experience something she could not was unexpectedly painful.

“Pitou!”

The guard’s ears twitched at the sound, her head following their lead to face the door. With an arched brow, she wondered why Pouf would be traipsing about the West tower, knowing full-well he despised the inhabitant. Curiously, she stood and walked into the corridor. She left the bed-chamber door ajar just enough to let her tail, which was currently bound to Dr. Blythe, casually trail behind her. Komugi, meanwhile, continued to sit patiently, allowing the doctor to treat each scrape.

“Neow what is it?” Pitou asked the butterfly chimera, her tone rich with anxiety.

Pouf stiffened, his nose upturned slightly as he attempted to peek around his fellow guard and catch a glimpse of the girl. “Why is the King so agitated and why are you here with this _human_?”

“The King ordered me to heal her.”

“Heal her?” He smiled triumphantly, “She’s injured then? I wondered what would possess you to lower your En. Is she… _critical_?” The last word dripped with excited bloodlust.

“Bruises and scrapes.”

Pouf’s face twisted in disgust, “This surely is a jest!”

“No,” Pitou insisted, “It’s true. The girl was attacked by a bird. The King demanded she be healed. He didn’t care about security.”

Pouf’s chin trembled as he tried to form a response. Why would the King care if some lowly human suffered mild flesh wounds? This turn of events was more than disturbing. Pouf swallowed, his next words absolute, “ _Kill her_.”

“I don’t think the King—”

“You _must_ Pitou. Make Dr. Blythe injure her beyond saving.”

“I can’t. My power doesn’t work that way. Dr. Blythe isn’t the same as my other puppets. Besides, I already let that bird attack because you seemed so concerned. I figured it would just kill her and we would be done with all of this.”

“Why didn’t it succeed?”

“The King. He…he saved her.”

Pouf’s hand rose to his chin; a pensive look lit within his umber eyes. “This woman…we need to—”

“Ser…Ser Pitou!”

Pouf scornfully snarled at the sound of Komugi’s voice.

“Hmm, her healing is complete. I need to go. You should leave, Pouf. I…I have a feeling the King will return.” 

Pitou slid back through the heavy chamber doors, sealing them tightly behind her. She left Pouf alone, his eyes blazing with hatred as he contemplated what needed to be done, this unavoidable act he felt his fellow guards lacked the resolve to execute. 

For the good of the King, _Komugi must die_.

* * *

In another room, in another tower, the King sat upon the garish throne of his predecessor, his mind still fraught with worry. So many cuts lined Komugi’s face and arms. He admitted to himself they were hardly anything to fret over, but that was not enough to quell his mounting agitation. Komugi was in danger and neither he nor any of the Royal Guards knowingly went to her aid. At the very least, how could Pitou not know of the threat? Or was she aware, and yet, she failed to offer any warning? The King swallowed hard; his mind made up. He would need to confront his feline guard.

He saved Komugi, but that was not his intention as he climbed that spiraling staircase, each step pushing him closer to snuffing out her existence. The King snarled, his lip quivering against his teeth as he reflected upon the fact. More infuriating still, had he _not_ gone there to kill the woman, the bird would have done it in his stead. She only lives now because he incited himself to end her. The irony did not evade the unsettled Ant King. 

Scraping claws grating against the tower roof alerted him to Pitou, the sound sharp and harsh. She was moving back to the East tower, her preferred post. A few moments passed and the cat chimera’s thick and suffocating En surged throughout the palace grounds. Security was back in place, and the girl was finally alone.

The King walked out to the balcony, the stars looming above him, an eternal abyss dusted with twinkling light. He glanced towards the West tower, the dim, flickering glow of candles illuminating the woman’s room. She somehow seemed too far from him, a novel feeling he was unsure how to process. 

He thought back on his promise to the woman. His promise to return soon.

* * *

Komugi hugged a thick, feather pillow as she curled up in bed. Her eyes were still slightly damp, the remnants of tears she could physically no longer cry. She frowned, realizing she should have asked Pitou for something to drink. 

She jumped at the sound of her chamber doors unlatching, the sturdy wood softly creaking as each side was gently eased open. She pulled the blanket around her form, her pout slowly parting, her closed eyes turning to face the intrusion.

“He—Hello?” she meekly mumbled into the void.

“It was not my intention to startle you.”

Komugi smiled wide, her face immediately growing warm and flushed at the sound of his deep, soothing voice. “Dear Leader!” She heard the door latch, and the silence of a slight pause, before his footsteps grew near.

Closing the distance between them, the King’s hand carefully reached out to take her delicate chin in his palm. He tilted her face towards his own, his concerned gaze meticulously assessing Pitou’s healing.

“Is—Is everything okay, Dear Leader?”

He released her chin, “Did you feel any pain?” His words held a genuine concern for her comfort.

Komugi blushed deeper, her palm slipping out from the billowy blanket and softly pressing against her beat-red cheek. “No, there wasn’t any pain, Your Majesty. Ser Pitou and Dr. Blythe were very kind to me.”

The news made the King happier than he would have expected. He smiled, his tail slowly swaying behind him. Had she been able to see, the wagging appendage surely would have betrayed him and his freshly accepted realization: The King truly did need this woman.

She coughed a bit, the sound distressing him. “Are you ill?”

“Oh! No, Your Majesty. I just need to drink something, is all. I should have asked Ser Pitou.”

The King glanced over to the bedside table, a fresh, clean glass and towering pitcher of water left standing there, perfectly untouched. He frowned, upset the girl could not see her very basic desire was already close and easily obtainable. Strolling to the table’s edge, he turned the cup over and poured a substantial amount from the carafe. “Here,” he began, offering the beverage as his other palm led her fingers towards the glass, “drink.”

She excitedly accepted the cup, immediately gulping down its entirety. She let out a satisfied huff as she swallowed the final bit, an adorable smile spreading from ear to ear. “Thank you, Dear Leader!” Her grin somehow beamed wider. 

Abruptly, almost alarmingly so, she frowned in utter and complete shame. “Was—was that beside me all along? I’m s—sorry. You must think I’m so stupid, Supreme Leader.”

“I think no such thing,” he honestly replied, taking the glass from her, refiling it, and returning it to her softly trembling hand. “This failure belongs to the halfwit who provided you with refreshment, yet failed to inform you of its location.” He watched as she swiftly swallowed down the second glass, her chapped lips beginning to gloss over with moisture. He took the cup, his free hand moving to wipe away a renegade tear fleeting down her face. 

“Why are you sad?”

“I’m just thankful is all.”

The King felt confused, “Thankful? For what?” He sat the empty glass down on the table, his mind mulling over the options, “For water?”

Komugi giggled, the sound punctuated by a soft hum. “For _you_ , Dear Leader.” 

The King froze in place, his tail going rigid as if captured by a fast frost. His green cheeks changed color, blushing to a soft blue as he fully comprehended her words. “ _Me_? I merely provided you with something to drink.”

“That’s not true!” she insisted, her voice suddenly full of conviction. “You’re…you’re the best person I’ve ever met, Dear Leader!” She blushed, burying her face in the blanket, her only exposed hand also slipping within the cozy warmth. All that remained bared was her bright, starlight-hued hair.

Grinning, the King climbed upon the large bed, his legs crossing before him as he reached out and slid his hands through her soft, snow-white tresses. This girl, he thought, was always so amusing.

Komugi raised her head, her eyes now open wide and tears steadily falling. “Why did you save me, Dear Leader? You…you should have let me just _die_!”

“Hush.”

“You would have been much happier without a burden like me around! You could hav—”

Her sentence was silenced as his lips firmly pressed against her own. Eyes wide and locked with hers, he held her head in place as they kissed, her body beginning to grow weak and relaxed beneath the blanket. 

Moments passed, her frame fully surrendered to his embrace, and the King gently, yet reluctantly, relinquished her lips. He used the side of his palm to wipe the dripping tears from her cheeks, his touch gentle and comforting. She just trembled there, pout plump and eyes wide like glassy opals, her franticly euphoric heart pounding wildly within her chest. 

“It is not my desire for you to know pain.” He slid his palms against the sides of her face, each thumb softly stroking the supple skin beneath her wet lower lashes. “If you ever face danger, you _must_ call for me. If you…” he paused, swallowing a tight lump in his throat, “If you were to ever be harmed beyond repair, it would…I could not bear it.”

Komugi quaked beneath his palms, her lips tight as she tried to hold back new and steadily brimming tears. She began to speak, her voice hoarse and thick with betrayed sadness, “You…you left me, Supreme Leader. Earlier… _you left me_.” She began to sob, the tears quickly falling against his hands.

He winced, the pained sound of her voice inspiring a sharp and stabbing sting in his heart. Shame was not an emotion the Ant King was accustomed to. “I know…and I will refrain from doing that in the future. You…you have my word, Komugi.”

Many moments passed as he nervously stared into the oceanic depths of her brilliantly blue irises. She weighed the tone of his compassion, her mind still frightened and mostly convinced he would someday abandon her. Nevertheless, she decided such a risk was worth taking, even when forever burdened with such a turbulent and terrifying thought.

Komugi smiled through her tears. Her palms slipped out from the blankets and pressed against his own hands that still softly caressed her glistening cheeks. Slowly, she shut her crying eyes before nudging forward, the blanket sliding away as she leaned into his warmth. Her body draped against his folded legs as she wrapped her slender arms around his waist, her small, damp face snuggling against his hardened chest. 

Glancing down, the King smiled faintly and admired her wide and satisfied grin. She looked so happy pressed against him. It was like she had never known fear in her entire life. He slid his fingers through her hair, his other palm pressing softly against her back. It was only now that he noticed the silken nightgown the girl was wearing. His fingers straightened out the elegant lace adorning her shoulder. She looked like a beautiful porcelain doll, so fragile and peaceful in his strong embrace. He resolved to never let her break. 

“Dear Leader?”

“Yes?” he mumbled, his fingers gently combing her snowy tresses.

“Would you…could you stay with me tonight?”

The question surprised him, his hands slowing their comforting strokes as he contemplated his answer. “Did you want me to read to you?”

She sniffed deeply, attempting to clear her nose, “You don’t have to do anything, Supreme Leader. I just need…” she blushed against his chest, “I would like you here, beside me, is all.”

He smiled, the proposition a welcomed one. “As you wish.”

The King felt unsure as she moved away from his chest, her hands grasping his and pulling him towards her. He decided to follow her lead, unfamiliar with what the human could possibly need from him right now, but happy to oblige all her requests. 

Komugi surrendered one of his hands so she could lift the blanket and welcome him to share its warmth. He understood, his tail taking over for her as his body slid against the satin sheet. He had barely begun to settle beside her when he felt her form press against his own, her arm stretching across his chest as her head nestled against his shoulder. He felt awkward but elated by her gesture, his tail pulling the blanket up to rest against their waists before slipping back beneath the covers and affectionately coiling around the girl’s leg. Grinning contently, the King’s hand moved to stroke her arm. His eyes lulled shut in absolute satisfaction, fully expecting the girl to soon drift asleep in his embrace. 

Komugi felt so safe there in his arms, her fingertips tracing the chiseled lines of his chest. She could hear his heartbeat beneath her ear. It almost sounded like her own except there was a faint, secondary rhythm softly strumming along. Something obviously alien, and yet, wholly comforting. She inhaled deeply, his earthy scent sending pleasurable tingles slipping down her spine. 

“Dear Leader?” she cautiously cooed, her hand resting against his thorax. Relaxed and content, he hummed his reply, urging her to continue. “Why are you so kind to me?” She immediately regretted her question as she felt his body grow rigid beneath her. “I’m sorry, n—never mind, Supreme Leader, Sir.”

His eyes remained wide, but his muscles relaxed again, his mind mulling over the unexpected question she posed. He was not quite sure himself. “You please me,” was all he could manage to say.

Komugi smiled against his chest, squeezing him tightly, “I care about you too, Dear Leader.”

 _Care_. He prodded over the word in his mind. Yes, he surmised he did _care_ for the girl, at least, if that meant she brought him happiness and he wanted to protect her. It was a strange feeling, albeit comforting. 

“I care for you,” he mumbled, the words foreign as they left his mouth, each hesitant syllable trying to cling to his purple tongue. His brow furrowed, unsure why the admission made him feel so wildly vulnerable. 

Komugi shifted in his arms, her face turning towards his own. His breath hitched, a warm rush flooding his mind as she stared back at him with those brilliantly blue irises. Her features were painted in a way he had never seen before. It made his chest ache in a hauntingly beautiful way and he found himself wanting to preserve the sight of it deep within his mind. Somewhere it would be kept safe. She smiled wider, the expression only heightening his dizzying excitement. 

Before he could truly acknowledge his desires, the two of them kissed, their lips sliding against one another as a jolt of energy raced through their bodies. He felt unsteady, his hands grasping her tighter as his tail pushed her entire form closer to his chest, their kiss intensifying as she softly moaned against his wandering tongue. 

Her hand began to slide against his shoulder, the absolute roundness piquing her curiosity, reminding her of his mystical, youkai origin. She ran her palm against the length of his arm, her fingers sliding against the raised and textured grooves in feather-light strokes. Pulling her lips free, she mumbled softly, “Do you ever take off your armor, Dear Leader?”

His eyes flittered open, wholly confused by her question. “My armor?”

“On your arms…or…or is it like your crown?”

He snickered, realizing what she was referring to. “Everything you feel is part of me.”

“Oh!”

The King heard the shy embarrassment in her tone and found it endearing. “Do you have questions pertaining to my form?”

“Ummm, ma—maybe.”

“Continue.”

“Do…can you feel everything when…when I touch you?”

He chuckled, “Yes, my body is porous and covered in organules…nerves much like your own.” He ran his textured palm down the length of her soft, supple arm. “Every touch inspires… _sensations_.” He brushed his fingers softly against the curve of her blushing cheek, “Why? Does my composition disturb you, Komugi?”

“No,” she quavered out, her body trembling at his gentle touch. “I…I think you’re…you’re handsome, Dear Leader. I know that might not mean much coming from—from me, but you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever touched.” She frowned, biting her lip to hold back tears, “You’re prettier than me. I know that.”

“I rather favor your form. At least, what I am familiar with.”

Komugi blushed, her mind twisted in a tangled mess of taunting thoughts. Surely, the Supreme Leader was making fun of her. And yet, he did always kiss her so sweetly, and he never failed to hold her so gently, like she was precious, special even. She reflected upon the fact, her face growing warmer as the thought lingered. “Dear Leader, could you…would you like to…to _see_ me? If it would ma—make you happy, I mean.”

The King’s heart began to pump faster, the tempo strumming against his chest, an occasional beat missing as he replayed the offer in his mind, eager to make sure he heard the woman correctly. He swallowed his excitement, attempting to return to his usual stoicism. “If you would permit my gaze, it would indeed please me.” 

His eyes widened as she shifted and rose to a kneeling position, her legs gracefully tucking beneath her trembling form. He watched her quiver as she reached up to the frilly neckline of her creamy-white nightgown. Taking the first glossy, pearl button in hand, she began to undo the delicate clasp. He swallowed as she moved onto the next, her pale porcelain skin beginning to bare itself as the ethereal garment began to gradually ease open. 

She reached the button at her waist, the fabric sensually sliding away to expose the sides of each breast. He marveled at how she offered him this gift freely and without his request. Every time he chose not to look suddenly felt rewarded, his chest beginning to heave as he continued to watch her free herself from the silky gown. His fist tightened as she neared the final buttons, his ravenous excitement intensifying. He began to feel that strange hunger again. That delicious want he only felt when she was near.

Sliding up against the headboard, his eyes remained locked on her nimble fingers. His breathing deepened, his mind swimming in bubbling euphoria. He would see her. Now. _Finally_. 

She unlatched the last button and unfurled the ivory nightdress from her frame, the lace sliding against her alabaster flesh as the cool air began to lick against her skin. She shook as she felt the fluttering, sheer hem glide against her trembling thighs. 

She waited for his answer, the seconds struggling to slip by, each moment drawn out and agonizing as she yearned for his judgment. What felt like an eternity passed before, with a defeated and drawn-out sigh, she sadly realized Dear Leader did not enjoy this gift, his silence nearly too torturous for the slender blonde to bear.

Meanwhile, and unbeknownst to the quivering beauty, the King’s mouth hung wide, his eyes hungrily consuming her elegant curves. Candlelight danced against her stomach and chest, the swell of her round, perfectly formed breasts casting alluring shadows, beckoning his gaze to linger longer. The pastel pink of each areola looked so soft, long tresses of her ivory hair playfully falling against each nipple as they began to harden in the crisp, night air. 

His eyes traveled down, past her flat stomach, and to the swell of her hips. He could barely discern the line of her labia, her thighs still flush against one another, impeding his hungry view. His brow furrowed as she moved to conceal her form, her arms sliding against her chest and hiding her breasts. 

“Have I caused offense?”

“You didn’t say anything,” she warbled, sniffling loudly, “so…so I figured you don’t like it, Dear Leader.”

“My approval was immediate. I was merely lost in the moment." He swallowed, his words ardent, "Komugi, I cannot seem to discern the proper word to adequately describe your beauty. Your form…it pleases me greatly.”

She smiled so purely, her cheeks flushed with pink as she pulled her arms free from her chest. Shyly, she reached out and found his large palm. She guided it forward, letting his hand rest along the swell of her left breast, right above the drumming of her chaotically singing heart. “You can touch me,” she anxiously cooed while releasing her hold, her own hands falling to rest at her side.

He paused there, mind lost and focused upon the warmth of her chest and the steady, rhythmic beating within. His fingers faltered as they tried to move, his mind still unsure if this was what she wanted or simply what she imagined he expected of her. He could have forcefully taken her at any time. There were so many opportunities he neglected, favoring instead the woman’s comfort and confidence. He wanted this right to be given, and he had no idea why. He just knew the fruit would taste sweeter if the moment were truly ripe. 

“Are you certain?”

She nodded, her chest heaving beneath his palm as she nervously took in a long, lingering breath. Her eyes were wide and full of resolve as he stroked his thumb against her collarbone, cautiously testing her response. She did not quaver or recoil. Instead, she softly smiled, her expression one of absolute trust.

Haltingly, he began to slide his hand along the outer curve of her breast, his heartbeat pounding against his eardrums as the impossibly soft shape delicately rested against his broad fingers. He gently squeezed, kneading the supple skin within his hand. He noticed her deeply swallow as her back seemed to instinctually arch against his lascivious caress. 

Emboldened by her favorable gesture, the King continued to fondle her form, his hand moving against the side of her waist and along the swelling arc of her hip. He lingered against the smooth skin, his other hand aching to join the exploration. 

With an eager lust guiding him, he sat up, moving his legs to either side of her kneeling form. His eyes locked on her expression, searching for any hint that she was growing uncomfortable with his advances. She did not flinch or falter. Her cheeks just continued to blossom with color, a shy smile still lit brightly upon her beautiful face. 

She gasped as his hands both claimed her waist, small bumps rising across her flesh, her growing excitement evident. His thumbs massaged against the line of her ribcage, her mind clouding over as she rested her palms against each of his bent knees. She felt drunk and like she had been given more wine. A tingle ran through her body, followed by a pleasurable shiver. She trembled within his grasp, her hair falling away from her chest, diffused candlelight longingly lapping against each perfectly formed breast.

She felt his supple lips press against hers, his tongue sliding past her pout as he still wantonly massaged the sides of her body, his eagerness becoming more apparent. Her tingling elation continued to bloom, small electrical charges zapping from nerve to nerve as she continued to lose herself. He pulled free of their kiss; his mind steadily losing to his passionate craving.

“ _I need more_.” 

“How—how much more?” she nervously trilled, her palms sliding against his faintly blushed cheeks.

“How much would you allow me?”

She licked her lips, her body trembling against his palms as she sheepishly opened her shimmering eyes. With a quivering breath, she replied, “everything.”

He smiled, pulling her body closer to his own, his lips eagerly reclaiming her mouth. If everything is what she would offer, everything is what the King would take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE: We've reached the erotica. Chapter 23 will be released next week. It is skippable and it will be graphic. I can't stress that enough. If you don't want to read about these two making love, you will need to pass it by and pick back up at chapter 24. Skipping will not effect the novel's narrative. If you push the subscribe button for this story, an email will be sent to you alerting you of each new chapter. 
> 
> I appreciate all of you so much! I seriously can't stress that enough. You've all let me experiment so much throughout this tale and I've recieved priceless guideance along the way. I hope this chapter left you eager for more of our tale. I really do have a huge amount of fun writing this story for all of you :) 
> 
> Thank you for the comments and feedback! It fuels me so much, especially when I feel discouraged <3


	23. Checkmate (Erotica/Smut)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This is the big, SKIPPABLE SMUT CHAPTER. If you continue to read this chapter you will encounter graphic sex between two consenting adults. Seriously: dead dove-do not eat. 
> 
> If you're not into smut, I shall see you next week in Chapter 24! If you like erotica, however, and if you're 18+, let's have a bit of fun. 
> 
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> FINAL WARNING: GRAPHIC SEX AHEAD 
> 
> Still here? Okay, let's do this!

Her skin sizzled as he pulled her flush against his chiseled chest. Gasping, each hand slipped behind his neck as her breasts pressed against his form, a frenzied sensation jolting between her thighs as she quivered in his strong and needful embrace. Adrenaline rushed through her veins, her excitement swelling as his broad hands roamed against the curves of her back, each caress electrifying her nerves in sweeping, sensual strokes. 

Thoughts rushing, unable to clearly think, Komugi slid her hand down the King’s back, her fingers brushing against the fibers of his vest before gripping tightly. Absentmindedly, she began to pull at the neckline, her wanton thoughts willing the garment to come off. 

Grinning, he huffed an amused chuckle in response. His hands released her form and pulled the vest from his shoulders, his mouth never surrendering hers. Her fingers spread wide as they slid against the hardness of his back, each digit grazing his raised spine as her wandering palms desperately tried to see more of his body.

Tossing his vest to the side, the King resumed his ravenous caress, squeezing and grasping at every inch of her alabaster flesh, his heart rate rising as the seconds swiftly ticked. When his palms slid against the curve of her rear and gripped tightly, she moaned, but it was a sound unlike all the others. This one was deep and visceral and dripping with the rich, honeyed tones of her obviously carnal cravings. It sounded unnervingly salacious.

The King’s eyes sprung open as her prurient voice vibrated against his purple tongue, a wild and covetous need commandeering his mind as rational thought yielded and chimera ant instinct took the reins.

He reclined upon the bed; his palms still grasped against her rear tightly as he forcefully pulled the small woman along. Her sylphlike figure slid against his chest, each nipple hardening from the frantic and firm friction. 

His hands moved lower, gripping against her tightly clenched thighs before confidently and easily pulling each leg apart. She gasped when she suddenly found herself straddling his abdomen, his demanding, hungered movements beginning to worry the petite blonde. 

She choked down the building knot in her throat, her brow furrowing as one of his palms slid up the length of her back and settled against the nape of her neck. He forced her head forward as his tongue plunged deeper into her mouth, probing against her teeth and tongue as she nervously mewled. 

Sliding against her pale thigh, his tail wrapped around her leg and ensnaring it firmly. She felt the coil constrict, his hand moving away from her other leg. She could sense him removing something. Something that was easy to identify as a strap was pulled free. It slid against her ankle before dropping to the ground. 

Immediately, his impatient hand returned to her quaking thigh, his palm and tail beginning to move in unison, grinding her against his abdomen in long, ravenous, and achingly rhythmic strokes. Her eyes widened as she realized what he was preparing to do. Something she suddenly felt unready for. 

Mind whirling, Komugi felt everything was moving quickly. _Too quickly_. This felt like a calculated predator attacking his prey, the youkai’s tail continuing to wind and constrict against her leg, all her own movement restricted as his otherworldly strength dominated her slender form. She shook as her body began to tense in fear, tears welling within her aquamarine eyes, the irises now icy bergs bobbing within the swelling waves. Why did she think he would be gentle with her? Would he even want her after this? After she was, once again, used? 

Meanwhile, The King’s mind was in an edacious frenzy, thoughts replaced with a determined need, and his muscles aching with an overwhelming urge to conquer. His eyes wide like a hungry beast, he had been staring deep into the woman’s frost-blue orbs throughout their entire exchange, a predatory glimmer reflecting off each of his own emblazed irises. He was losing himself to uncontrollable urges. _Primal, intense needs_.

It was not until he saw it there, glistening against her lower lashes, that the King paused. Like a rain of iron, he heard a chaotic clatter within his mind, his seemingly irresistible desires suddenly subdued and trapped. He found focus and he felt a sharp and throbbing pain. 

His mouth pulled away from hers as a thick, solitary tear splashed against his cheek. A strange, sickening feeling shot straight from his heart to his mind, his chest aching at the sight of her crying above him. This was _not_ what he wanted. Not at all.

In an instant, he rolled over, the blonde still clutched within his strong arms, and he placed her head gently against one of the many plush pillows adorning the bed. His arms reluctantly released her as he pulled back to rest against his folded legs. Meanwhile, his violet eyes were still wide as he watched her quickly grasp the satin sheet and pull it over her body, shielding his view. He watched as she trembled, fat tears rolling down the sides of her face and into her chalk-white hair. She shook: a wounded doe frightened before a predatory beast. 

“I meant no harm,” he blurted out, still unsure of what he had done to upset her. In his mind, he had been claiming his mate, a right she had granted him. The emotional intricacies of intercourse were not something he had even paused to consider.

She continued to cry. Her eyes reddening from the onslaught of terrified tears. 

“Tell me how I’ve upset you,” he insisted, his mind suddenly racing back to every piece of literature he had read concerning human reproduction. He _knew_ the woman was not supposed to be crying, at least not from fear or pain. “Did I cause you harm? It was not my inten—”

It dawned upon him. While his mind reflected upon both medical texts and that towering stack of erotic literature, he consciously realized that humans were _very_ unlike chimera ants. Humans, he recalled, possessed an assortment of sexual customs. Customs that he was selfishly ignoring as he succumbed to his deeply rooted instincts. He swallowed, his eyes scanning her trembling form, assessing the damage his actions had wrought. He found no pleasure in her fear.

“Komugi,” he quietly began, his tone strange to his own ears, “I momentarily lost myself. I failed to acknowledge you as a human whose needs differ from my own.” 

She could hear grief and shame within his tone. It caused her heart to flutter, an odd sort of relief blanketing her mind in unfamiliar security. She still quaked before him but her hot tears began to wane, the constant sniffling dying down, replaced by a deep, long sniff. She attempted to clear her nose, and her small palm began to wipe away the moisture from her ivory cheeks. 

Noticing her tears ebbing, he continued, “My species is only concerned with efficient reproduction. The mating rituals of humans are unnecessarily complex and drawn out. Your ilk performs many… _nonsensical_ acts.”

She blinked, suddenly feeling more at ease as the Supreme Leader continued to explain himself. She could hear a genuine concern in each of his words, and he began to seem less like a ravenous beast and more like the man who always caressed her so carefully. She began to feel relief that he was, indeed, special.

“Forgive my transgression. I was grievously impulsive.”

Her crying mostly stopped. She rose, one arm propping her against the bed as the other clutched the sheet firmly in front of her chest. Her wide, glassy eyes continued to stare into his, almost as though she were trying to study his intent, an odd thing for a blind woman to do. Still, she seemed to somehow see him there, and she decided his words were true. 

“I understand now, Supreme Leader. I was just…to be honest, this has never been enjoyable for me. It’s…it’s always painful.” 

Her gaze fell away from his and the Ant King felt his heart sink. Cautiously, he extended his palm and cupped her cheek, eager to reassure the woman that he was of no threat. She flinched only slightly before warmly conceding to his touch, her hand letting go of the sheet as she moved to caress his broad fingers that sweetly lingered against her damp flesh.

“It should _not_ be painful.”

“Eh?” she shot back, not sure if she heard him correctly. 

There was no response. She swallowed nervously before continuing, “Then, you’ve done this a—a lot? Wi—with humans like me, Dear Leader?”

Matter-of-factly, the King bluntly confided, “You are the only mate I have ever pursued. I have had no interest in any other human.” He paused, reflecting upon his next words with an amused smirk, “or in any other species for that matter.”

“O—o—oh,” the petite blonde shook out, obviously surprised. Quietly, she mumbled out, “You’re the only person I’ve ever _wanted_ to do this with, Dear Leader.”

He paused, his hand still drifting against her skin, his thumb wiping away her last remaining tears as he smiled affectionately. The woman's admission pleased him. “Then, the others are of no importance. Consider this your first time as well.” He swallowed hard, suddenly nervous, an odd feeling for a King. “That is…if you will still have me, Komugi.”

She nodded and unknowingly returned his smile, the gesture flooding the King’s chest with a pleasurable warmth he did not quite understand. He just knew that he liked how happy she seemed, there and alone in his caress, and that he would do whatever it took to preserve that joy. He would even attempt to place her needs before his own…or even before his instinctual lack thereof.

“Komugi, your mating rituals are…complicated, but I assume they are pivotal. Otherwise, why would your kind bother to undergo such lengthy and seemingly unnecessary trials?” He caressed her face in both hands before continuing, “I will adhere strictly to what your species deems desirable. You have my word. Your enjoyment is paramount.”

She nodded nervously, her hand affectionately resting against the arc of his cheek. “Th—thank you, Dear Leader. I...I would like that.”

He smiled, leaning forward to gently kiss the petite beauty. She returned it happily, her palm sliding against the back of his head as her lips softly smiled against his own. 

Releasing their kiss, he barely pulled back and whispered, “You desire our coupling, do you not? If you ask, I will leave without question.”

“Please, don’t go! I want this. I want...I want _you_.”

He grinned, gently lowering her blushing form back to the bed as he hovered above her. He began to nuzzle at her neck, softly planting lingering kisses that trailed up to her cheek. 

“I know it will hurt, though, so could you…could you _please_ make it fast, Dear Leader?”

He stopped kissing her, his eyes suddenly filled with pure resolve. “You will not know pain, Komugi. I will ensure it.” He lowered his lips to her ear, brushing against the shell softly. “I've researched your species...extensively. Your body is not yet ready for me.” He ran his wet tongue against the curve of her ear before huskily whispering, “ _but it will be_.”

She gasped, her legs immediately sliding firmly against the King as she struggled to ease the euphoric tingle shooting between her thighs. _That voice_. 

“Be at ease,” he deeply cooed, his mouth returning to her glossy lips and kissing her passionately. “Trust that I will grant you pleasure.”

She trembled, a solid rush filling her to the brim as he began to kiss down her slender neck. He reached her collarbones, his tongue tracing the delicate line. He hummed a pleasing tune as he heard her moan and felt her thighs squirm. _This_. This was what he wanted. 

His palm slid against her bare breast, his fingers kneading the supple flesh as she tenderly mewled. Grazing his thumb against the nipple, he watched as she trembled beneath him, small bumps forming on her skin as she arched her back. She seemed so needy there beneath him. So fragile and delicate. Absolutely helpless. 

He recognized a possessive urge to protect her, the thought lingering at the forefront of his mind before he continued his sensual exploration of her form. His mouth slid over her breast, the warmth eliciting a lusty moan as she arched even more. He swirled his tongue, thrilled to see her mouth open wide as she whimpered for more.

Dragging his tongue against the width of her sternum, he claimed her other breast in his mouth, his fingers still massaging the former where his saliva began to cool against the hardened nipple. He felt her hips begin to swirl in small circles beneath him, her body begging for some sort of release that he felt absolutely keen on delivering. He whirled his tongue around her pale, pink nipple one more time before sucking gently and releasing it with a wet pop. Smirking, he remembered the mating rituals documented in so many books. Erotic literature seemed to be quite the guidebook, and the King felt confident with the knowledge he acquired.

‘Why does it feel so good?’ Komugi silently questioned, the chill tingle of cold air against her previously fondled breast contrasting against the warmth of his tongue. She kept trembling, her head arching back as her hands continued to roam against the shape of his crown. What was he doing to her? She shook, this time with greater force, her mind silently begging him to continue while her body practically screamed her desire in a blatant demand.

Her legs kept squeezing firmly against either side of his legs. It had become obvious to the King that she was frantically trying to grind each thigh together. His curiosity piqued.

She gasped, nearly squealed, as she felt one of his broad fingers glide against her labia. The energetic jolt it caused surprised the petite woman. “Su—Su—Supreme Leader?!”

He released her breast from his mouth and rose up, admiring her desperate expression as she panted beneath him, her nacre eyes wide and jaw unhinged. 

“Do you wish me to stop?”

Her head shook, almost comically, as she continued to stare at the ceiling, mouth agape and brows knitted. 

His fingers returned, and this time his glossy fingertip brushed against her sensitive clit. Her moan was immediate and dripping with desperation, the reaction causing the King to grin wildly. He had not even entered her, and yet, her reactions were already more than worth the seemingly unnecessary acts required in human reproduction. Perhaps, there was more to these mating rituals than he had previously understood. Reducing her to such a quivering mess was positively _thrilling,_ and he was fairly certain this newfound game was one he would best her at.

The King slid his hand against her labia one more time, his fingertips sliding deeper within her wetness. She gripped the satin sheets and the King chuckled darkly, his hand rising up to his face. Experimentally, he inhaled, taking in the heady scent that was now slicked over his large fingers. Something about it made him feel a dizzy, heated rush, his legs growing weak beneath him. He slid two of his fingers into his mouth, his tongue rolling against her juices. The taste, he found, pleased him even more. She was _delicious_.

He pulled his fingers out with a pop, a new game strategy clear in the King’s mind. If barely grazing her caused such an extreme reaction, he wondered what would happen if he touched her there _entirely_. 

Her chest was heaving, mouth still unhinged, as the King began to kiss and lick down Komugi’s body. Her fingers trembled against the hardness of his crown, her mind spinning as she wondered what he would do next. When he reached her pelvis, she anxiously mewled, her legs shaking as he licked the inner swell of her thigh. His tongue lingered against the soft flesh as he left a wet trail up to her knee, his broad palm wrapping around her slender leg and pulling it to gracefully rest atop his shoulder. 

He began to softly nip and kiss down the length of her thigh, inching ever closer to his prize. As his mouth moved near, he slid her other leg against his back, her thighs now straddling his face as his palms slipped around each hip and roamed against her alabaster skin. He massaged the slender curve of her waist, marveling at how soft her body was compared to his own. 

Hovering against her sex, he paused, his teasing mouth so close and yet still not making contact. He blew his warm breath against her wet skin, grinning widely as she began to whimper and squirm. Finally, a way to disturb _her_ rhythm. 

He listened to her desperate pleas for a few moments, appreciating the sweet sound of her needy cries. Abruptly, he lapped his tongue along the length of her slick sex. He lingered against her clit and she nearly squealed, her thin thighs struggling to clench around his head. His palms caressed her breasts while he rolled his tongue, savoring her sweet taste and the way she anxiously shook within his mouth.

He continued to lick and gently suck at her clit, occasionally sliding his tongue down and deep inside of her. His fingers brushed against her nipples, both now even more sensitive as she moaned and quaked beneath him. Her taste gave him a rush, her movements granted him a glimpse of the edge. When she began to grind her pelvis against his mouth he felt like he would lose himself, his cock beginning to swell from its sheath as he felt that forbidden, crazed hunger once more. He pushed the unbelievably powerful urges to the side, his tongue beginning to work faster as it slid and slipped against her throbbing clit.

“Su—Supreme Le—Leader!” she moaned, her slim fingers gripping the sheets as her pelvis tried to force her body closer to his tongue. Her mind was too lost to even notice it was an impossible feat. “I fe…fe—feel strange!”

He continued to swirl against her vulva, each stroke becoming more and more passionate as he felt her body begin to tighten and grow ridged within his firm hold. Her thighs began to tense against his cheeks, the pressure kindling a fire within him as she began her surrender. Eagerly, his tail rose up and slid against her breasts before ultimately caressing her face. His thoughts reflected on how she was his, and _only his_ , his shaft aching as she started to buck against his face. ' _Entirely. Mine_.'

Komugi moaned, her legs stiffening as her toes curled. Her mind felt hazy and her body felt unreal as tiny, electrical pulses danced from nerve to nerve, each charge seeming to culminate between her aching thighs. She felt as though she would faint, her body suddenly spasming throughout. She gripped the sheets harder, wailing into the night air as if her soul had been set free of its earthly shell. She couldn’t understand what was happening, but it felt incredible. No, _better_ than that. 

She shook against his eager tongue, her muscles contracting as everything grew so much wetter. What had Dear Leader done to her? What was this feeling? She felt a final spasm and she fell limp against the bed, her breath panting and eyes wide in utter admiration and awe. 

He slid out from between her legs, his lean and muscled body now hovering above her trembling, frail form. Licking her nectarous taste from his lips, he continued to slide his tail against her quaking form, a lustful charge surging through him as one of her hands grasped its girth and cradled the coiling appendage between her breasts. The stinger glistened in the soft, flickering candlelight as it rested beside the delicate flesh of her neck. She was so weak and so easily destroyed. 

“Perhaps, we should stop,” he deeply cooed, his palm carefully sliding against her shimmering flesh, a thin sheen of sweat coating her entire body. She resembled glass, he thought. Fragile. Beautiful. _Precious_.

Her eyes turned to instinctually lock onto his, their glimmering gaze wet with satisfied tears. “No, Dear Leader. _I want this_. I really do...so much.” She rose and reached forward, her fingers landing against his sculpted abdomen as her tongue traced her lips. “Let me do the…the same for you.” 

He swallowed, suddenly anxious but unsure why. Staring into her aquamarine eyes, he saw nothing but admiration and a willingness to please. He felt his shaft twitch, his eyes locking on her glossy pout. This was tempting. 

Still, there were other ways he wanted to be with her, and he was steadily growing impatient. 

“Another time,” he replied as he leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers. He felt his senses ignite as she enthusiastically returned his gesture, her tongue slipping into _his_ mouth for the first time. He moaned hungrily as her tongue slid against his own.

With great care, he gently lowered her to rest against the pillow, his heartbeat growing bolder than he ever imagined possible. He rested his hand against her face as he moved into position, happily savoring the sound of her soft gasp as his hard shaft slid against her opening. The head just barely nudged inside, her warmth and wetness already maddening.

“Are you certain?”

“ _I want this._ ”

They both moaned into one another’s mouth as his throbbing length pushed deep inside. She was so wet and so aroused, and it shocked her that there was absolutely no pain. It appeared his promise was good.

Her body eagerly welcomed his as he began to slowly pump his shaft inside of her. She started to cry, realizing this is the only man to ever _give_ her pleasure and not just take. Dear Leader was amazing and this… _this_ …was otherworldly. The sensations coursing through her felt so euphoric she questioned if they were even real. 

The King began to pump harder, the soaking wet squeeze of every tight contraction edging him closer. Her legs wrapped around his waist, each ankle hooked firmly together as she eagerly pumped her own body against his, desperately trying to claim all of him. Her body began to tense again, her head rolling back as she started to moan in pleasurable screams. He felt an unbelievable wave of gripping spasms against his cock as she came for a second time. 

“Ko-mu-gi,” he moaned against her neck, his shaft swelling inside before his body succumbed to her body's tight embrace. He came deep within her, his hot seed filling her as his fingers fiercely tore into the mattress of the bed. She moaned again, gripping wantonly onto his neck and shoulders, her breath heating his ear while his muscles began to finally relax.

With his still hard shaft inside her, the King rolled over, pulling Komugi on top of his form as his tail intertwined with her legs. He embraced her, his fingers gently sliding through her hair as she rested against his chest. He felt different. Better. Like the monotonous tedium of his royal life had finally been interrupted by something far more important: this woman. 

Feeling her tears pool against his chest, he cooed, “Did I cause you pain?”

“No.”

“Then why do you cry?”

“I’m just so happy.”

He didn't respond, but he continued to stroke her face and hair as she fell asleep in his arms, the entire time pondering over what to do with his newfound lover. He sighed. A decision made now would unnecessarily be in haste. After all, there would be plenty of time to wade through these new feelings once the humans were all sorted. No matter what, one fact was apparent to the Ant King as he began to drift asleep, the blonde’s slender fingers clasped within his own strong hand:

Whatever may come, Komugi would forever belong to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support! Seriously, your comments make me feel so thankful. This novel is a serious labor of love and it takes me a while to create it. It means a lot that so many of you are supportive and help me along this journey. I hope you had fun. Another chapter is on the way :)


	24. Primal Instincts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Gore
> 
> Happy Birthday to my buddy DukeKitty! I dedicate this chapter to you ^_^

The noise is deafening. A chorus of whispers sizzles into his ears, each muted syllable cracking against the others, impossible to grasp. Clanking metal plays accompaniment to the spectral song, each rhythmic bang punctuated by an exclamatory whirl. A constant throbbing resonates, too. Something low and sickly vibrating amongst the chaos.

His amaranthine eyes spring wide, the black pupils dilating hungrily as they consume the surrounding color. Darkness surrounds him save for one distant burst of light. He turns his gaze towards the star, the brightness momentarily hazing his vision as his focus strains.

He is drawn to it, this distant and suspended torch. He rises from his crimson seat, a shadowy throne of polished gold and liquid-slick velour, before stepping towards the fiery orb. It beckons him with its sparkling dance, long rays of light extending like arms yearning for his embrace.

The walk is long, and his legs feel heavy. A vaporous mirage slowly builds within the glow as each step seems to ascend, the ground swelling to meet his slow, strenuous stride. The sweet smell of flowers wafts throughout the blackness, their perfume strangely paired aside the tumultuous sound.

A silhouette takes shape and his mind grows dizzy. As light floods around his form, the King feels heat against his flesh. The sunlight surges and ingests him.

A tree stands there, tall and ripe with sleeping life. The soothing breeze brushes by his cheek and up into the oak’s glossy green petioles, nudging each delicate leaf awake. He realizes the bizarre clamor is now absent and the gentle calm of sweetly singing birds is in its stead. The light of this vibrant paradise welcomes him eagerly. 

He sees her facing away, his Komugi, a welcomed sight after that unnerving melody of disembodied hisses and steady hums. Finally, something familiar and comforting, a vision he can truly trust.

Now, by her side, he strokes a broad finger down the slope of her pale neck, his fingertip feeling her supple, porcelain flesh as it softly bows to the pressure of his careful touch. Her warmth, flush against his sturdy chest, anchors him. He inhales deeply, and her crisp scent, pastel peonies in a dew-kissed garden, is a welcomed reassurance that he is found. His eyes lull closed, content in his heart’s newfound home. 

The sky **roars** and his eyes flicker. His grasp is broken, arms rip wide. Her solacing touch is somehow lost.

A pulsing flash unbalances his mind. The blackness booms in rhythmic beats and glimpses of the tall tree pulse within each palpitation of the light. Veiny leaves begin to fall, revealing skeletal limbs that silhouette against a dulling sky. The bark erupts in fibrous boils that cling in sticky clusters, as the sinewy rind of each fetid fruit expands and stretches thin. He watches as writhing forms stir and flex against each webbed sac. Wails and whirls crescendo as the rim of his vision dims and dulls.

A familiar hunger swells within his stomach and he moves as if entranced, each step mechanically puppeteered by a primal urge. Beyond the tree, past the flailing forms encased in silken sacs, a human form stands. It faces towards a dying span of inhospitable soil, sparsely scattered with withering shrubs. 

Prey with _nowhere_ safe to run. 

The distance closes instantly. He eyes his mark’s exposed neck with ravenous intent. Like a slithering snake he waits, a calculated cobra preparing to strike.

The flesh tears easily between his teeth, the jugular severs and drowns his thirst with heated blood. A euphoric wave crashes within his frame as the sinfully sweet flavor drowns out the world. 

Eyes close shut. 

Stroking long and slow against his lips, his tongue savors the metal-tinged drippings of his choking, trembling kill. Delirious in his carnal contentment, the hissing voices and pounding roars both still.

His eyes slowly rise, exhilaration dims. He first sees red, the color painting both his hands and the newly wetted soil. He realizes the human is still locked in his embrace and, while dead, still warm to his callous touch. 

He takes stock of his bleeding bounty. A rose-pink, cotton blouse now seeps with scarlet, the color slowly creeping as the wound continues to gurgle and gush. Snow-white hair begins to mat against the growing wetness, long tresses soaking up the visceral liquid greedily as each strand wantingly clings to his heaving chest. This alabaster flesh seems familiar.

Bile rises within his throat as he realizes the form he so roughly holds. His heart begins to slam against his chest in frantic, irregular beats as time condenses into a slow, stagnant slurry. As his eyes begin to well and his jaw starts to tremble, his gaze climbs towards her face, ready to confirm his sickening suspicion. 

Breath hitches. Eyes wide.

He smells the stench of a ripe, rotting rose.

His thoughts now writhe as he holds the woman. Limp and hollow. Just a shell, her eyes have forever closed to a blackness overflowing with despair. 

Her soft, pink lips which used to part delicately lay cracked and disgustingly dry. The oceanic glaze that so often highlights her otherworldly eyes is evaporated, the irises now two parched pools where life could never reside. A cavernous, waterless void.

A beast with blood-stained fingers moves to caress her ivory cheek. He sobs, the sound hoarse and muted as it garbles against his tightened throat. His touch is merely an inch away when her body violently convulses within his embrace. 

In absolute terror, he stares as her blood bubbles beneath her skin. Crimson eruptions rip through as each audible split mutilates the fragile features of her face. Pustules pop and ooze in nearly rhythmic succession. The flesh begins to wither as her lifeless eyes cave into the hollows of her skull, a melted mass of fluid and sinew slowly sliding to the sun-scorched earth. A boney specter hauntingly replaces her former self. He surrenders to his fear, fingers failing as the chalky carcass slips his shaking grasp.

That sweet, fleshy taste he once treasured now lingers rancid on his tongue. The bile climbs and he vomits, the acidic slurry pooling beside the shriveling corpse of the only lover he has ever known. His face contorts in agony while his hands drag, seemingly forever, across his still scarlet-stained mouth. With her taste enduring there like poison, he howls. Knees buckling, he surrenders, now a fallen soldier beside her rancid rot. 

He killed her. He killed his sweet, frail Komugi. There will be no more gungi and no more sweetly blushing smiles. Her chalky hair no longer shines like starlight guiding him in the darkness of night. She is lost, and his powers hold no baring when faced with Death's inevitable grasp. 

He crawls to her decayed, skeletal body and cradles it close. There is nothing familiar left for him to look upon and there’s no way to restore her life which he so viciously stole.

He is lost now, without her, and the tainted taste of her flesh threatens to never leave his tongue. He cries out in regret, both vast and gnawing. Then, with precision, his tail’s sharp stinger _slams_ into his skull.

* * *

The King ripped awake, his violet eyes wide and his chest heaving. He found himself on a soft bed, but not his own. His heart drummed wildly as he remembered the nightmare. It was strange, he thought, to have such bizarre visions while he slept. The feelings he sensed while in that loud and dizzying haze were not well-known to him. In fact, he could not remember even once shedding a single tear in his short life. It seemed so alien to him, especially that absolute loss of control. As the King, there was nothing he could not rule or dominate.

His eyes fell upon a still sleeping Komugi and he unconsciously smiled, his labored breath beginning to calm within his tightened chest. She looked as perfect as she had while drifting asleep, satisfied and with her fingers softly laced amongst his own. He wondered when her grasp had slipped away in the night, or when she had come to rest beside him instead of cradled in his arms. 

Glancing to the windows, he noticed the barely glowing light of the sun beginning to warm the star-scattered sky. Morning would be here soon. He wondered if he should leave. There were many things that needed his attention today and staying with this human would hardly accomplish any of them.

Still, laying beside her, his face was close enough to smell her faint and floral scent. He lightly stroked his hand against her feather-soft hair, the tresses sliding against his palm like silk. The woman smiled, perhaps from some comforting dream or perhaps from his touch. He wasn't quite sure but it made his heart flutter. 

He moved his tail forward to slide against her waist, nervously pausing as she stirred, her low snore continuing after a few tense seconds. With increased care, he moved closer, fully abandoning his plans to leave her there alone. It pleased him as she sleepily snuggled against him, her smile growing warmer as his loamy musk wafted into her secret dreams. 

Memorizing every curve of her slender, candlelight licked back, he wondered if her dreams were vastly different from his own, and he quietly found himself hoping they were. He didn’t want her to know fear or pain and the reason still somewhat eluded the young Chimera King. She inspired such strange thoughts. 

Feeling oddly content, the King found himself succumbing to sleep once more. His mind began to haze, his thoughts drifting off to lands impossible to foresee. With steadfast certainty, and with his last conscious thought, the King quietly decreed, ‘You are safe now, Komugi. I give you my word.’

The stars slipped back beneath their blanket of light. The sun began to eagerly swell and rise. 

Today, here in the King’s Orchard, the ants would finally lead their hellish harvest. For now, though, there was still time to sleep and still time to dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was an interesting thing to write, and I hope you liked it! All art was created by me. I decided to experiment with imagery a bit since this chapter was a literal nightmare *_* (I started illustration classes about a month ago. The MeruKomu Madness Discord inspired me to learn a new skill. I can't say enough great things about the supportive people in our little community. MeruKomu attracts some seriously kind and talented individuals.) 
> 
> Thank you all so much for the support! I've been getting very experimental with the novel and it's so amazing to read feedback from all of you. I'm having a lot of fun creating this for all of us :)


	25. Lingering Urges

The blazing sun streamed in through open windows, the light baking an embroidered blanket His Majesty woke up beneath. It was too warm, almost sweltering, and he found himself beginning to shift in discomfort. Preparing to toss the cover to the floor, he abruptly stopped, his maze of thought no longer hazy. Still, where was he? 

Eyes flittering open, the domed ceiling of the bedroom filled his sight. He felt warmth beneath his fingertips, the honey-smooth texture unimaginably soft. Someone was cradled in his arms, and their fragile fingers were softly stroking the chiseled slopes of his broad and sturdy chest. 

He glanced down, feeling peculiar as his eyes landed upon the slender woman tucked firmly against his side. She was awake, and it seemed as though she had been for quite some time. Her eyes still shut; her hand was moving about in random patterns, each gesture looping in little circles. Almost as though she were drawing the tiny dots on domino pieces, a mostly luck-based game he read about days earlier. (He deemed it pointless.)

Head tilting in her direction, the King wondered if each small circle she sketched meant something, even if she alone understood the significance. It was observable that there appeared to be a rhythm in her strokes. Perhaps, it was a secret code. Or, perhaps, not. Humans, after all, often occupied themselves with mindless fidgeting. 

Komugi’s hand stilled against his chest, her pout spread into a tiny smile, and the King felt a calm he was not familiar with. This moment. It just felt _right._ Better than any imagined conquest ever had. How strange. 

“You’re awake,” the blonde happily chirped, her cheeks blushing deeply.

“It appears so.”

“I’m…I’m sorry if I woke you up, Dear Leader.”

“Worry not. I should have awoken sooner. It is well past morning.”

Komugi gracelessly giggled, the sound nervous and unsure. This was the first time she had ever slept so close to a man. Many firsts had happened lately.

“Um, Dear Leader…”

“Yes?” 

“…Th—thank you for staying.”

The Chimera King stared up at the lofty, stone arc of the ceiling, his thoughts beginning to wander. He had, actually, thought about leaving. He remembered the moment so clearly, several hours ago, when he had nearly decided to sneak out before the sunlight broke through the windows of the palace. Why had he decided to stay? Why was this human consuming so much of his time and attention? He let the thoughts pass, the answers still unknown. For once, surprisingly, the King was content with not truly understanding. 

“Staying pleased me,” he mumbled out, more to himself than to his companion. 

She smiled, his words nearly making her visibly giddy with excitement. She snuggled closer against the King, her arm reaching across his chest, securing him in a firm hug. Wiggling just a bit, she squeezed as tightly as she could, the embrace unflinchingly affectionate. She waited, expecting Dear Leader to return the gesture.

Much to her dismay, she instead felt him shift and rise, her arm falling away as he pushed the blanket aside and sat beside her.

“D—Did I do something wrong? Did I…did I hurt you?”

He paused, entirely confused by the girl’s question. “Did you hurt… _me_?”

He began to roar with an almost hysterical laugh, the cackle vibrating deep within his throat. Yet, seeing her brows quickly furrow in concern, the King stifled himself, swiftly returning to his usual stoicism. 

“You need not worry about hurting me, Komugi. I assure you that _nothing_ is capable of hurting me.”

She nodded in embarrassment, a half-hearted smile forming as her worried brow loosened its tight grip. “Are you leaving?”

“Soon. There is much to do today.”

Head hung low, Komugi bit her lower lip. She clutched at the blanket, her fist pulling the fabric tightly against her collarbones. An ever so slight tremble shook her lean frame. 

“Komugi,” he began, his tone gentle and unexpectedly concerned, “I will return. You have my word.”

Her uneasy smile widened, glossy tears miraculously stopping before their inevitable fall. “Thank you, Dear Leader.”

He leaned forward, his lips falling upon the woman’s forehead as his hand combed through her soft, white tresses. Palm resting tenderly against her head, he held the kiss, his own mind surprised at how badly he wanted to just remain in bed. There, with her. Where something felt inexplicably right.

Reluctantly pulling back, he turned and rose off the mattress, surveying the dust-speckled room for his discarded vest. He found it laying haphazardly on the stone floor.

She listened, hearing his movements as he seemed to be dressing. There was a nagging concern growing within her mind, the seed threatening to burst forth from richly eager soils. She had a question, and it was not one she really wanted to ask. He did say he would return, though. In that case, could she ask him anything? Would Dear Leader _always_ return?

“Su—Supreme Leader?”

“Yes?” he replied, pulling his vest over his rounded shoulders. 

“What we did…together…um…”

The King stopped mid-dress and turned to face the woman. “You enjoyed it, did you not?”

She blushed; the color so red her cheeks felt heavy and hot. “I…I did, Dear Leader, but I don’t want to embarrass you if…well…umm…”. Her words drug on, the pauses awkwardly long.

The King, as one would expect, began to lose patience. “Say it.”

She swallowed hard, her nerves jumping and tingling with anxiety. “It’s just that what we did could…ma—make a baby.”

“You are not with child,” he batted back, his tone unapologetically blunt.

“How do you—”

“Determining a potential mate’s ovulation cycle, no matter the genus, is something I can inherently assess with little effort. My species, given its superior evolution, breeds with the utmost efficiency. I was already aware, even before our coupling, that the act would not prove fruitful.”

“oh,” she meekly replied, her thoughts half relieved, and yet for some reason, half disappointed. “That’s g—good then, Your Majesty.”

“Would bearing my offspring displease you, Komugi?”

She lit up in shock, her eyes large and bulbous as she waved her hands desperately. “No, Dear Leader!” She dropped the blanket and bowed, her palms and forehead pressed firmly against the silky sheets, her back fully exposed in the sparkling sunlight. “I’m just not worthy of it. So…so it’s good I’m not!” Her face rose up, her cheeks flushed and eyes glassy, “I d—d—don’t mean that I’m _glad_! I mean, I am but because I’m so lowly and you’re—”

“Silence.”

She immediately hushed, swallowing deep to hold her breath.

He smirked, remembering how she passed out at a similar request days earlier. Amused, the chimera ant added, “Breathe. I shall return later to play gungi. That would please you, would it not?”

She huffed out her inhaled breath, smiling wide at the King’s offer. “Yes please, Dear Leader!

“So be it. I will arrange some sort of nourishment and have it brought to you. Spend the remainder of this day as you like.”

“Dear Leader, is…is there something important happening today?”

He paused, unsure how much knowledge he should grant the woman, or even what details she could stomach before inevitably turning on him. Imagining an alarming moment where she might refuse his company, he opted to proceed with caution. “There is, but it is nothing to concern yourself with.”

The woman stilled, her mouth slightly open and tongue seemingly ready to probe further. There was a shift, however, and it appeared she too decided it was best to leave this topic vague. “I understand, Dear Leader, Sir. It’s something good for you, though. Ri—right, Your Majesty?”

He felt his throat tighten; his thoughts surprisingly jumbled. “Yes,” he nearly choked out, a novel uncertainty coating the word like a thick paste.

Accepting his simple answer, Komugi smiled, wide and toothy. It was the sort of smile instantly recognized as genuine and compassionate. A grin that even the most frigid heart would melt upon glimpsing, especially if they were the fortuitous recipient. “Good! I’m glad, Dear Leader!”

The King felt sick, but he was unsure why. All he knew, with sheer certainty, was that the woman looked beautiful sitting there on that bed, the golden sunlight bouncing against her pale, porcelain flesh. His eyes traveled her length, hungrily absorbing the swell of her bare breasts and the curve of her narrow waist. Without a conscious choice, he began to move towards her, almost as if he had no control over his own needy actions and desires.

It was her smile. That is what drew him in, a moth to a tempting flame. The consequences were irrelevant. After all, no one else looked at him like that. What did that strange smile even mean? He stopped himself before taking another step, remembering that she would still be there once the Selection was finally complete. Then, he could fully assess these odd and confusing urges. He could figure out what she meant to him.

Declaring their next meeting would be that evening, the King left Komugi behind and began pacing down the long hallway. It was not long before he reached the spiral staircase and began his arduous descent. With each step, his befuddlement surged. 

His actions confused him. He engaged in intercourse with another species, fully aware that copulation would not impregnate the female. From an evolutionary standpoint, the coupling made absolutely no sense. Why squander time and energy, and most importantly, his invaluable and superior seed? 

Still, he had little trouble admitting the act was physically enjoyable. These ridiculous human mating rituals were not nearly as pointless when viewed through the lens of entertainment. He scoffed, trying to convince himself that the evening was merely a scientific experiment. That must be why he engaged so willingly in these bizarre mating customs. There was no denying that the entire experience was indeed educational.

Interestingly, there were even more rituals he had yet to perform. Things he had read about. Pointless things but interesting things that piqued his curiosity, especially given the previous night. Perhaps, it would make sense to engage in further scientific exploration with the female. Merely out of academic curiosity, of course.

The King would, understandably, need to be careful. He reflected upon Komugi’s thin and frail body. Could such a weak specimen even bear his child successfully? He imagined his own birth and shuttered, the feel of his mother’s womb as he ripped it apart still easy to recall. For a moment, he imagined the same thing happening to Komugi. That sick knot returned to his throat. He swallowed, feeling as if he could choke.

‘That bird,’ he silently growled, his rage growing as he realized the absurd fragility of the woman. If even a bird was an unsurpassable opponent, he would need to watch her more closely. Perhaps, the girl should be moved to his quarters. Tomorrow, he decided, he would have the guards do just that. Besides, he was already experiencing undeniable urges to be with the female again. Having her there was practical. 

“Pitou!”

The King found the cat chimera easily, her lithe form clearly visible from the far end of the palace hall. He saw her head turn, her body kneeling immediately as she deeply bowed. 

“A bird,” he quietly grumbled through gritted fangs. “Pitou would have known.” His violet eyes narrowed as he approached the Royal Guard. 

* * *

Komugi still lay in bed, her arms clasped tightly around a pillow as she bathed her bare body in the warm sunlight. She felt positively giddy, her excitement barely contained, her cheeks flush with a deep rose red hue. 

Someone had held her. _Her_. The fact seemed impossible, and yet, she could so clearly imagine the tingling feeling as Dear Leader wrapped his powerful arms around her waist. Immersed in intoxicating pleasure, the memory of his broad palm sliding against her naked back was nearly enough to send her over the edge. She rolled back and forth on the mattress, lost in a wild wave of embarrassment. The Supreme Leader was perfect. 

Finally pulling her palms away from her crimson flushed face, Komugi sighed. ‘Why does Dear Leader want me?’ she silently pondered, her brows knitting together as worry began to replace her drunken euphoria. 

Could His Majesty truly want a peasant? A blind one, at that. She pictured the Supreme Leader in her mind, remembering the feel of his lush lashes and strong chin. He _must_ be beautiful. She remembered the noble slope of his nose as it passed beneath her fingertips. He possessed, she imagined, all the features expected of a handsome man, of a positively beautiful person. The things that made someone special. Valuable. 

Slowly, Komugi reached up and began to slide her fingers against her face, reflecting on her own shape and comparing it to that of Dear Leader’s. Was she so different? Had he not called _her_ beautiful?

Indeed, he had, and that moment was, in her mind, probably one of the best she would ever experience. She wondered when this dazzling dream would pass. When would Dear Leader tire of her and cast her aside like all the others in her bleak and often terrifying life? He, too, must be making plans to abandon her. 

After all, the Supreme Leader would not even give her his name. Such a simple request, and yet, something she was unworthy of knowing, not that she blamed Dear Leader. She hugged the pillow again, her grip impressively tight. The linen next to her face grew darker, a few hot tears spilling from her glassy eyes and onto the pillowcase.

Why would he, a man so kind and so perfect, bother to return to someone he considered absolutely unworthy of even knowing his name? 

* * *

“From now on, keep an eye on Komugi as well. Take appropriate action at once if anything happens.”

“Yes, Sire,” Pitou answered back, her orders clear. She remained bowed as the King casually walked away, his destination unknown to the Royal Guard.

“And feed her!” the King yelled out, his back still turned as he walked, his tone obviously still annoyed.

“As you wish, Sire.”

The cat chimera rose to her feet once his footfalls grew silent. Perhaps, she pondered, it was unwise to let that ballistic bird go after the human girl. The King was far less than pleased by her negligence. 

“What was that about?”

Pitou glanced over, the butterfly chimera’s presence not a surprise. She had already felt Pouf arrive seconds before he spoke. “Nothing.”

“I’ve been standing here for at least ten seconds, and you haven’t tried to pounce at something that sparkles or insist we go on some sort of ridiculous ‘adventure.” He held his chin delicately between his thumb and curled index finger. “So, I know you’re lying, Pitou.”

“The King…he wants that woman protected.”

“Protected?” his face contorted in disgust. “You have better things to do.”

“I’m just supposed to keep an eye on her neow.”

“As soon as the Sorting is finished, I’m killing her.”

“You know the King won’t like that.”

“Alas, it is my burden to bear,” Pouf sighed, his hand extending towards the heavens as the other gripped at the silken shirt adorning his chest. “Once the King has his army, I can sacrifice myself. His eternal reign is more important than my life. A life that belongs solely to please the One True King!”

“Mmm, I made a promise to the King, Pouf. I’m not sure if I could let you hurt her.”

The Royal Guard gasped, his jaw hanging in disbelief. “Pitou, it’s for the King!”

“Even so…” Pitou’s words trailed off as she began to walk away from the stunned butterfly chimera.

“Wait,” Pouf called out, “where are you going?”

“I need to get that human her clothes. I had them cleaned and hemmed. Feed her, too.”

Pouf’s mouth curled into a smile. “Let me take care of that.”

“Nya?”

“I don’t need to scatter my scales over that subspecies assembly until later today. You have so much to do with the orchard we’re planting. Let me handle the human. I am, after all, the one who prepares the dishes she so enjoys.”

A clawed finger rose to Pitou’s chin as she contemplated his offer. There were a lot of things to get ready for the Sorting and it would actually help if she had a bit more time on her hands. Still, she did not trust him to not hurt the human. 

Noticing her reluctance, Pouf continued, “Like I said, I will kill her after the Sorting. There’s no sense in making the King upset on such an important day.”

Narrowing her eyes, Pitou studied Pouf’s features, determining his intent. After a few moments, her body relaxed, returning to her casual posture. 

“Me-okay! No drowning her, though!”

“I will simply clothe and feed the pest.”

Pouf watched as Pitou bounded off, a new skip in her step as she excitedly hummed. Now, she could spend her time in the lab, preparing for new ant troops to be cocooned. 

The tall guard turned and began to walk, Pouf’s direction not towards the palace kitchen. No, he had a different destination in mind. Golden yellow flowers and bizarrely braided trees were not the only things grown in the palace, and while cleaning up the flood, he had found something promising. 

Pouf’s eyes narrowed, his wings trembled at the thought. Anything to cease the King’s alarming fascination with that woman. _Anything_ _for his King!_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are enjoying the path we’re taking. We’ll be beginning the palace invasion soon *_*
> 
> Thank you for your support and comments! It seriously means so much to me. This is a huge labor of love and your enjoyment is what drives me to keep writing. Thank you all!


	26. Pretty Poison

Flowers. Each so delicate and each a vibrant shade of purple. They were a violet not too distant from the King’s piercing eyes and almost exact to the exoskeleton shielding his strong and powerful arms. Pouf admired the shade, his thoughts wandering off to the His Majesty’s pristine beauty and how the Ant King’s posture was always so undoubtedly regal. 

The butterfly chimera sighed at the thought of the King, mighty and looming above him, while he, His Majesty’s eternal inferior, bowed in complete respect. Such perfection was obviously more profound than anything or anyone in the mortal realm. His Liege was a King among men, and His Majesty was a God among mere kings.

Pouf compared the bold blooms to the diagram casually clutched within his hand. There was no doubt. This plant was aconitum, also fearfully known as the “Queen of Poisons.” Beautiful, magnificent, and terribly deadly. Much like his superb King. 

“How fitting,” Pouf mumbled to himself, his haughty voice barely above a whisper. “A peasant killing queen will free our beloved King.”

With long, delicate fingers, the Royal Guard slid a thick, rubber glove over his hand. He reached down, far against the ground and along the base of the flowering monarch, before ripping the plant from its loamy throne. The muddied roots dangled before his eyes, easily the deadliest part of freshly plucked devil’s helmet. 

“They call you ‘women’s bane,’ little plant. Today, you’ll rid us of our bane, although even by human standards, I’d _hardly_ call that vile creature a woman.” 

As the blonde chimera walked towards the main doors of the atrium, a damaged sign was dangled behind him, barely suspended over the entryway to a small, secluded room. In bright, red ink, it read “DANGER: MEDICINAL GROWHOUSE.”

* * *

A hot skillet sizzled as three thick slices of bacon were tossed against its heated surface. The crackling erupted, hot grease snapping out of the pan and splashing against the bare flesh of Pouf’s hand. His gaze fell against it, the pitiful burn barely even a minor inconvenience. Nothing that superior chimera ant construction could not handle.

The kitchen counter was covered in recently chopped fruits, each a vital ingredient for the wolfsbane punch he was so meticulously crafting. Aconite had a horribly bitter taste. That is, until it burns and numbs all your tastebuds indefinitely. Still, taste paralysis would not set in immediately, and the point was to get that disgusting human to drink. Surely, she would be more likely to partake of a beverage fresh with sweet-smelling fruits. 

The butterfly chimera kept cooking. He periodically sprinkled a pinch of salt or a dash of spice. Despite the meal being for such deplorable filth, it was still Pouf’s creation, and there was no reason to not prepare the dish to the best of his ability. Perfection was the undisputed realm of the chimera ants. He would not sully his species’ good name by creating sub-par delicacies, something only a lowly human would be satisfied to produce.

‘What is it the King sees in that wretched animal?’ Pouf vexed to himself, his hand absentmindedly tossing pineapple chunks into the foaming punch mixture. “She can’t be for breeding. She’s too sickly. Too disgustingly weak.”

“The human?”

Pouf spun around, his elegantly posed hand dripping with pineapple juice. He found Youpi standing near the kitchen door, the giant brute poking at the pillowy rise of freshly prepared bread. 

“How much did you hear?”

“Eh. Not much. You sure she isn’t for breeding?”

Pouf gasped, his hand soaring towards the doorway, pineapple juice raining from his glistening palm. “How _dare_ you! **Get out**!”

“Relax. I’m just asking.”

Pouf grasped a nearby towel, drying the sugary liquid from his palm. With a huff, he threw the cloth at Youpi. The beastly ant caught it, his wide brow furrowing.

“Why aren’t you guarding His Majesty?” Pouf spat, his blonde hair tossing about wildly, his nose held high in disgust.

“The King said to find Pitou and see if that girl needs anything. Pitou said you’re handling it, so I came here.”

The butterfly scoffed, “Of course I’m handling it! Someone needs to deal with the pest.” Pouf watched as Youpi crossed the kitchen and curiously glanced into the syrupy concoction. “ _Don’t touch that_.”

“Eh, so this is what you wanted me to get all those fruits for. What is it? You know we aren’t allowed to give that fruit juice stuff to the human anymore. The King said it makes her act _strange_.” He paused, reflecting on the King’s furious rant, “and you know it’s bad…the way she must have acted. She was so nasty it made the King look sick.”

Pouf nodded; it was true that the King’s hue had darkened, a plainly enraged blue flushing his cheeks. At least that girl aggravated him at some point. He smirked, a warm hope filling his chest. Indeed, the King would not miss the human forever. ‘Although,’ he silently grumbled, ‘His Majesty shouldn’t miss that human filth at all.’

“So, is this the same stuff?” Youpi continued, beginning to lean over to inhale the candied mix.

“I seriously wouldn’t,” Pouf snapped. “It’s poison.”

“I thought you said that was too risky.”

“I did. Alas! This gamble is one I must take!” The chimera gracefully plucked a crimson-red rose from a nearby vase, inhaling the bloom’s scent deeply as his hand delicately rested against his cheek. He seemed to sparkle there amongst the steel pots and polished cutlery. His elegant glitter would, however, not last.

The chimera’s wide, sparkling eyes suddenly dimmed and slitted, “And this poison is…special. I doubt one of our common soldiers could survive it, let alone a snotty, loathsome human.”

Pouf turned to face Youpi, his posture defiant and lips pursed. “Are you going to insist you’ll stop me…like our dear Pitou proclaimed?”

“Nah,” Youpi casually shrugged back, “if she gets in the way of the King, she has to go.”

“I’m shocked to hear _you’re_ whom I share reason with.”

Youpi tossed the juice-soaked towel onto the counter and turned to leave, strolling halfway out of the kitchen before abruptly halting. Nonchalantly, he called back, “I would do it soon. The King has already mentioned gungi a couple of times.” With that final warning, he exited, leaving the butterfly chimera seething.

Pouf snatched a glass pitcher from a nearby shelf, the entire time huffing out insults regarding the woman. With steady grace, he poured the frothy mix from its bowl, the red hue of the punch illuminating the granite countertops with refracted, scarlet light. 

He stared into the crimson-hued liquid, the fruit slices bobbing like bergs in a bloody, silent sea.

 _Soon_.

* * *

Komugi, alone in her room, sat upon the bed while touching a rather beautiful necklace. She could sense the glossy roundness of each pearl, the spherical orbs decreasing in size as her fingers traced near the clasp. There were even five strands, each length in a graduating pattern, the first string of pearls thinner and more delicate than the fifth. The surface felt so smooth. Even the weight felt luxurious.

It felt wrong, holding such expensive jewelry within her trembling palms. Obviously, this necklace was never meant to touch the lowly hands of a peasant, especially one as plain and useless as her. Yet, here it was, another bobble left behind by Ser Pitou. Dear Leader said everything she had been given was hers now. How could she ever wear something like this, though? It was too grand. Too lavish.

_It was too good._

If she were brave. If she clasped the necklace. If she let each strand rest against her defined collarbones in all their pearlescent glory, well, she would still be positively worthless. After all, no matter how many fine gowns she wore and no matter how bad she wanted it in the very core of her being, she could never be valuable. She could never be like Dear Leader. That must be why he refused to give his name. Like this necklace, his name was far above her.

A loud knock at the door startled Komugi. Swiftly, she hid the jewelry beneath her blanket, a part of her far too ashamed to let anyone see her caressing and admiring it.

“D—Dear Leader?”

There was no response. At least, not verbally. Nevertheless, Komugi heard the sturdy doors to her chamber open wide. The sound of footsteps was next, each foot obviously clad in a leather-soled shoe. This was not the Supreme Leader. It had become obvious that he only moved about barefoot, the sound distinct from all the others.

“He—Hello?”

“It’s time to dine.”

Komugi sighed in relief. In her anxiousness, she had not even realized her room was filling with amazing, delicious smells. “Sir Pouf!”

“I see you’re _still_ in bed.”

Komugi awkwardly laughed, unsure if the Royal Guard was mocking her or just making an observation. She decided it must be the latter, the tension in her muscles finally relaxing. Only a few seconds passed before she felt the bed slightly indent from the dinner tray placed directly in front of her.

“I also brought your mended clothes. Although, I can’t see why you’d want to wear them.” Pouf glanced to the wardrobe; the doors open wide and the inside lined with gorgeous frocks so plentiful that they struggled to all fit. “Aren’t you grateful for the luxuries you’ve been given?” His lip trembled; his mind enraged at seeing so many gifts. Pitou said the King made her take things to the human, but this was far too much. _Positively_ _unacceptable_.

“Oh, no, I love all of the things Ser Pitou brought to me, and I’m eternally thankful to Dear Leader!” Komugi clutched her hands to her chest, her eyes glistening. “And _you_ , Sir Pouf!”

“ _Me_?” he spat back, his fiery gaze still trying to burn the wardrobe to ash.

“Well, well, yes! You’re so kind, Sir Pouf! You always make me such delicious meals. You must be one of the most talented chefs _ever_!”

For a moment, Pouf grinned, his pride and arrogance swelling within his chest. Just as quickly, however, he realized what lowly creature had just offered him her approval. How degrading! 

“Naturally, I am highly skilled. More so than any,” he paused, his eyes narrowing at the petite blonde, “ _peasant_.”

Komugi swallowed hard. His words felt like an insult, although, she was not quite sure. Maybe this was just the way important people talk. Still, she could not help but feel a sort of hostility, as if this man were staring her down. It was probably all in her head. 

She decided to lighten the mood. 

“It all smells so amazing, Sir Pouf! Thank you!”

“You should eat then, and make sure to try the delicious punch I prepared especially for you. It’s a new recipe. So good you’ll die.” The butterfly chimera took the pitcher in his hand and poured a generous amount of the crimson brew into an ornate glass.

Komugi blushed, the idea of someone making a special drink for her was just too overwhelming. How kind everyone here was! She realized that Sir Pouf truly did like her. He was just a bit strange. 

She began to eat her exceptionally delicious meal. All the while, Pouf watched on, his chest swelling and breath hitching each time her hand went near the crystal goblet. However, whenever her fingers brushed against the sparkling glass, she seemed to pull away. It was as if she were avoiding it!

“Is my punch not **good** enough for _you_?” 

Komugi paused, her mouth half full of a perfectly browned dinner roll. She began shaking her head frantically. “No, I swar I’m gon dink it foon,” she forced out, her mouth full and diction muffled.

Pouf was immediately appalled. “Don’t talk with food in your mouth like some sort of savage! I hope you never _dared_ to do such a vile thing in His Majesty’s presence!”

Komugi swallowed the bread, “I’m so sorry Sir Pouf! I will be better next time! And I just haven’t tried the punch yet because I’m saving the best for last because it’s special!” 

Still offended, Pouf lost the remainder of his waning patience. “Drink it _now_.” 

“Umm…I’m just not done yet with my meal and—”

Without realizing his actions, Pouf swiftly moved forward and grasped the goblet in his hand. “I need to know if my recipe is delicious. Now. Drink. It.”

He watched as Komugi’s jaw unhinged and brows knitted above her closed eyes. He saw _fear_.

That primal look she gave him was intoxicating. He had tried to be nice. Tried to be tolerant. The beast would drink. _His King would be free_.

Pouf pushed the tray to the side, Komugi now easily accessible. His bent knee pressed against the bed as he began to climb in front of her. Quickly, almost instantly, he loomed above her as she reclined against the bed, her muscles tense and lips trembling.

“ **Drink** ,” Pouf commanded, his free hand reaching forwards and grasping the girl’s slender wrist. 

Komugi squealed as her other hand flew forward and her legs began to flail. She felt her hand strike against something firm and then a clatter against the stone floor. A second, louder crash followed the first, and then, there was haunting silence.

Komugi’s hand was released. She heard the guard wail in tormented agony.

“What have you done?!”

“I’m—I’m sorry. Did I spill it?”

Pouf stared at the floor, the contents of the goblet, and everything that rested atop the dinner tray, was now scatted and spilled across the cold, stone tiles of the floor and an ornate rug. He watched as the liquid pooled and began to seep into the fibers. His creation! His answer! He should make that deplorable mutt lap it up from the filthy floor! 

“I’m—I’m so sorry, Sir Pouf! It was my fault! Let me clean it up!” Komugi began to move towards the edge of the bed, ready to help.

“ ** _Don’t_** ,” Pouf spat, his mind suddenly fearful. This was not going as planned. Not at all. He could let her touch the poison, to die by simple skin absorption, but it was no guarantee like consuming the poison would be. Plus, there was the color. 

No, the color would give him away after her death. The poison was everywhere now, and the evidence was too plentiful. He had planned to just kill her and then dispose of the glass and pitcher. To leave it somewhere out there in the desert, somewhere his King would never bother to traverse. That way he could possibly live and remain alongside His Majesty. After all, humans are weak. She succumbed to an illness. So natural. So simple. His King would need to move on. He _would_ move on.

Now, the candied smell was absorbed into the rug, and the room was a mess. No, the King was too smart for this. Pouf, begrudgingly, decided to bide his time. He would exterminate the vermin later. 

Pouf turned to face Komugi, his eyes landing on her knitted, fearful brows. “It’s not something for you to sully yourself with. You’re our,” he choked back rising bile, “esteemed guest. I will send someone else to clean this mess.”

“Oh I don’t mind, Sir Pouf—”

“ ** _I insist_** ,” he countered, his voice firm and haughty once again, “and Komugi…”

“Y—yes?”

“I wouldn’t mention any of this to the King. He probably wouldn’t be pleased with you if he found out what a disgusting mess you’ve made.” He grinned wickedly, “The King might even make you leave the palace.”

“I won’t, Sir Pouf! I promise! Thank you for being so kind and warning me!” She bowed deeply against the bed; her palms outstretched before her. Pouf reveled in her delicious shame and piquant fear.

“Of course. This will be _our_ little secret.”

“Th—thank you, Sir Pouf. You’re very kind. I’m s—sorry I didn’t drink the special punch you made me. It…It seemed to mean a lot to you.” 

“Forgive me for being so insistent. An artist is often zealous to a fault. I will prepare it again for you tomorrow, and this time, you may drink it at your leisure.”

Komugi’s face lit up. “That would be amazing, Sir Pouf! Thank you for the second chance!”

Pouf nodded, a situationally useless gesture, and then made his way towards the chamber doors. With his hand on one ornate doorknob, he turned and hummed, “Remember, don’t touch _any_ of it. Let us do the cleaning. I would be terribly upset if you did it yourself.”

“Oh, I won’t! I—I pro—promise, Sir Pouf!”

“Good.”

Pouf cleared the threshold, the sturdy doors closing tightly behind him. He held his breath, hot tears beginning to build within his umber eyes. His teeth gritted against one another as he held back his urge to scream. He cleared the hallway quickly, barreling out of the open windows and into the chill air.

“Whyyy?!” he woefully sobbed, his hands covering his face as his cries erupted, agonized tears streaming down his pale face. “Why is it so difficult to free my King?!”

He wailed, his wings giving way as he began to tumble towards the earth. To an onlooker, it would appear the butterfly chimera was simply ready to end it all in a final, eccentric display.

Pouf, however, would never quit when his King so _obviously_ needed him. Before crashing onto the ground, his shimmering wings burst wide, his eerily predatory shadow shading the palace courtyard. In mere seconds, he was rocketing towards the heavens, the light of the setting sun illuminating him like a divine warrior. 

“I am **scum**!” he screeched into the night. “No, I am lower than scum! How could I not complete such a simple task?”

He floated mid-air, the entire time berating himself for being so stupid and so positively useless. She was just a pathetic human. She was nothing! How could he have been bested by a blind, bumbling fool? Could he even call himself a “Royal Guard” anymore? He was a joke! A failure! Useless!

“Calm yourself, Pouf,” he whispered, his tears dripping down his face and falling upon his silken shirt. “There is still time to kill her. For now,” he turned and faced the growing crowds of humans, each lining up like lambs to the slaughter, “the Selection.”

Spreading his wings wide, Pouf flew towards one of the many rooms where he would find lesser chimera ants. He would need to send someone up to clean that awful mess, someone expendable. He could hardly bear imagining his beloved King accidentally poisoning himself if he were to return to that swine. Of course, Pouf did find some relief in the knowledge that His Majesty was most likely immune to all poisons. He was, after all, the pinnacle of all evolution. Absolute perfection personified.

He smiled widely, his thoughts reflecting on the glory of His Majesty. Everything was for the King!

* * *

The sun had fallen beneath the horizon and Komugi’s room had grown dark. She sat there, alone and in front of her gungi board, her hair bound high in two pigtails she had fashioned while a very nervous ant cleaned up her mess. She had felt so guilty for not helping.

She wore her freshly mended blouse and skirt. It felt shameful to wear one of the expensive outfits found in the wardrobe. She heard the rug being removed, after all. How could she so brazenly wear such lavish gifts when she herself had damaged the Supreme Leader’s luxurious belongings. She was so thankful for Sir Pouf and how he was covering up her loutish mistake.

‘I bet Sir Pouf is still furious with me,’ she quietly thought, her palms clinched. ‘I ruin everything.’

A hot tear trickled down her face and crashed upon the saffron-hued cushion tucked beneath her form. What if Dear Leader found out what she had done? Would he be so offended by her oafishness that he really would ask her to leave? It seemed plausible. 

And what if the Supreme Leader found out she insulted dear Sir Pouf? She should have drunk that punch immediately. It was such a kind gift, and she was so disrespectful of Sir Pouf’s generosity. Cringing, more tears fell. Dear Leader was probably very attached to his guards. More attached than he could ever be to her.

‘I asked his name, and he wouldn’t tell me.’

Komugi imagined Dear Leader the best she could. If only he were there. Daydreaming never compared to being beside him.

‘I want to play…’

* * *

Meanwhile, the King surveyed his kingdom from the central tower. A sea of ants, each dot a human marching from a city he would soon overthrow. He watched as the tanks roared alongside the somber parade. They all just did as they were told. So easy. _Too_ easy.

‘I…am King,’ he quietly pondered, “but who am I really? Why am I here?’

Could his purpose truly be nothing more than domination? He clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing against the star-speckled sky. Humans are so doltish, and so easily vanquished. 

‘For what reason was I born?’

He glanced to the west tower, his eyes softening as he saw the dim glow emanating from the guest suite. 

“Who am I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the support! I haven't been myself these past few weeks. It means so much to me that you're all still going on this journey with me. Your comments truly do give me fuel since it lets me know you're enjoying yourself. I really do want this to be a story you'll be happy you read. 
> 
> I will try to get back on our usual schedule. I think we all know what's coming in the next chapter. Let it begin! 
> 
> You all mean so much to me <3


	27. Reign of Fire

‘Why am I here?’

The question seemed easy to answer, and yet, there the King stood unsure of himself and of his preordained destiny. He surveyed the sprawling courtyard, his gaze sweeping over a smattering of trees ripe with clinging, sticky fruit. Each sac held a sleeping soldier in an unconquerable army. _His_ army. Soon, he would turn the fittest of mankind against the weakest of their pathetic ilk.

‘A king with no name,’ he pondered, his broad fingers tightening against his palm, veins bulging from the pressure. ‘A borrowed castle.’

He looked past the courtyard and towards the incoming tide of marching humans, each one inching closer to face either inevitable death or involuntary rebirth. They were so dull, each lout a hypnotized possession that may or may not prove to be a useful tool. All entirely expendable. Mindless drones.

There was no place in a perfect world for humans. That much was clear to the King as he assessed the growing throng. Perhaps, destiny did indeed fate him to burn their shameless world to ash. Only when their weak brood had fallen, could he carve a far greater path over their rubble and wreckage. He was superior to all and the personification of a perfect storm wrought against this mediocre world. In his wake, chimera ants would reign supreme, as nature so clearly intended from the start.

Clinching his fists tighter, the King began to chuckle darkly. The laughter intensified and bellowed out in a manic crescendo that reverberated off the staggered stone columns of the palace. His mind roaring, he loftily proclaimed, ‘If this is the mandate of heaven I have been given, I fear nothing except the tedium it will bring!’ Thick, purple energy surged from his body, a glowing torch of heated malice and terrifying power. 

Youpi watched from the shadows, holding his breath as the King’s voracious roar boomed. His lips curved into a satisfied smile, and the Royal Guard's eyes twinkled with unprecedented awe. 

* * *

Despite the King’s cackling, a faint chirp is all one could hear within the high walls of the west tower. Perhaps it was the sprawling length of the courtyard, or perhaps it was just an architect's expert craftmanship that buffered the sound of tanks and roaring sirens. No matter the reason, Komugi heard nothing out of the ordinary. Aside from one lonesome cricket, all was eerily still.

Komugi slid her fingers over the smooth, stone floor. The rock tiles were cooler now. It was indisputable that the sun’s warming rays had gently passed, and the moon had since risen to rest atop its celestial throne. This chill, familiar kiss of the night had finally come to soothe the sun-scorched earth. Where then, she wondered, was Dear Leader?

She ran her finger over the edge of a gungi piece, the surface speckled with tiny pores that were easily discernible through touch. White. Each of the two colors had such vastly different textures, the black pieces being impossibly smooth beneath her fingertips. Dear Leader, it seemed, only provided the very best for his guests. It was yet another kindness that she felt unworthy of.

Komugi placed the white gungi piece atop another, mumbling to herself “Shinobi 4-6-2.” She found her mind half focused on the plays she was creating, and half focused on remembering the firm feel of his hands against her form. He was nothing like this cold, stone floor. No, Dear Leader felt like home. At least, he felt like what she imagined a true home would be: soothingly warm and undeniably safe. His voice sometimes sounded distant, but his caress was anything but. She traced circles beside the golden-yellow pillow, her mind trying to imagine her fingertips instead stroking his broad, defined chest. This day had taken too long. All she wanted to do now was play gungi with Dear Leader. That, and to embrace him in her arms.

‘He’ll come back,’ she quietly thought, a desperate attempt to console her steadily breaking heart. With each passing hour, Komugi had begun to grow weary. Her mind kept jumping to-and-fro, trying to confuse her with so many imagined possibilities. Could the Supreme Leader really, _truly_ care for someone like her? He said he cared, and in truth, they had shared something so intimate and so undoubtedly beautiful. Surely, that must mean something, right? That she was _special_ , perhaps? Even if only just to him?

She placed another gungi piece, Calvary 2-6-1, her throat tightening as she thought back on her past. None of those men had ever cared for her. They took what they wanted and then they just left her there, sobbing next to the only thing to ever love her, a gungi board. Why would Dear Leader be any different? A powerful ruler and a legendary yōkai. What could she possibly offer someone so incomparable?

“Checkmate,” she weakly mumbled as she placed a final game piece, a recently imagined play now confirmed to be positively unbeatable. Why couldn’t things be like gungi? Why couldn’t it all make sense to her? Life needed simpler rules for a fool like her to follow. A rhythm she could understand.

A tear rolled down her alabaster cheek and clung helplessly to the curve of her chin. She sighed, the sound shaky and desperate with longing. Where was he? Where was Dear Leader?

* * *

**WHAK.**

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Youpi rubbed his cheek, this sting of the King’s tail burning his flesh. 

“Forgive me, Sire.”

“And inform Pitou to cease using her En. I grow weary of it.”

“As you wish, Sire.”

The cat chimera’s En had become an annoyance to the King. Even now, as each sturdy step brought him closer to the throne room, he found himself exasperated by it. How was he supposed to savor time spent with the female if he always felt watched? It was bad enough that his Royal Guard’s En was active last night during his sudden coupling. Had he known mating were a possibility, he would have ended her bothersome watch sooner.

‘There is no threat I could not remedy personally,’ he haughtily reasoning. There was no need for En when he was the strongest being in existence. There was nothing that could possibly harm him, no foe that could defeat him. In fact, he realized that there was only one true weakness he possibly possessed: Komugi.

‘She’s so fragile. So powerless.’ The words rang in his mind, his brow furrowing at the thought of the girl being hurt. Perhaps, she too would benefit from the cocooning process. After all, if she were made into a chimera ant there would be less fear of her suffering injury or worse. And then, there was his newfound interest in potentially mating with the human. Theoretically, this solution could prove rather fruitful for both.

Crossing the threshold of the final stairstep, the King snarled, ‘No, she might be changed far too much by the process.’ Not just in body, but perhaps in mind as well. Would she remain a paragon of tactical prowess? Or would she somehow become even stronger if her mind mingled with his species’ superior genetics? What creature would emerge from that uncertain sac? What metamorphosis would Komugi undergo? And most importantly, would she still smile at him in that dizzying way that inspired his body to ignite?

Slumping upon his throne, he huffed. Oddly, he did not want _anything_ about the human woman to change. She was entertaining and exceptional exactly as she was created, despite being born of an inferior breed. Her pedigree could ultimately be overlooked. Making such exceptions was his irrefutable birthright.

“Sire?”

“Enter.”

The King watched through narrowed eyes as Pitou bowed before him. He waited as she performed the respectful formality, her head at last rising, and her eyes meeting his. 

“ _Speak_.”

“Yes, Sire. Youpi has informed me that you desire my En to be lowered.”

“It distracts me.”

“I understand your annoyance, Sire. However, withholding my En could put the palace at grave risk. The security it offers allows for each Royal Guard to react immediately to any potential threats, and-”

“Tell me Pitou, do you think me a fool too dimwitted to ascertain such overt possibilities, or do you simply question my ability to eliminate these hypothetical threats?”

“Of course not, Sire. Forgive me. I am merely concerned for your safety,” she paused, choosing her next words carefully, “as well as the safety of your guests.”

The King’s heartbeat abruptly hammered within his ears; his mind acutely aware of how Pitou’s En could indeed protect Komugi in his absence. “Do you have a compromise? I suggest you state it now.”

“Hmm, how about this, Sire?”

* * *

‘Pitou has been in the King's company too long,’ Pouf thought, a glimmering rain of pearlescent flakes falling from his shimmering wings, vibrant confetti waltzing adrift the evening wind. 

The guard had been diligently scattering scales across the crowd. All the while, keeping tabs on His Majesty’s whereabouts. Ever since his interaction with the human earlier that day, it had been impossible to not agonize over whether the King was aware of his attempted crime.

His eyes widened as he witnessed His Majesty’s shadow moving across the floor of the throne room. He was heading towards the stairs! Finally, a chance to gauge the King’s suspicions or, hopefully, lack thereof.

With a quick sashay of his wings, the hail of scales ceased falling towards the mind-numbed masses. Eager and swift, the butterfly chimera crossed into the throne room through a wide window, the King’s impressive figure gracing his sight. 

“Your Majesty!” he called, descending beside the Ant King in a graceful pirouette. “I have ne—”

**THWAP.**

Stunned, Pouf grasped his throbbing cheek, a thin trickle of warm, blue blood flowing over his slender fingers. “S—Sire?”

The King continued walking, his stride both strong and unmistakably determined. It was obvious that his self-ordained mission had nothing to do with the bothersome butterfly.

Glancing over to Pitou, Pouf’s gaze was met with the wide, uneasy eyes of the cat chimera. She ardently shook her head in a desperate plea for Pouf to stop addressing the King. The tall guard nodded, the taste of his own blood tainting his freshly bitten tongue.

When enough time had passed for the King to descend the staircase, Pouf cautiously spoke, “Where is he going, Pitou? Did something happen? Did he…did he mention me at all?”

'Did he mention _you_?' Pitou’s brow raised at the thought, the question clearly clinging to her tongue. Focusing on the problem at hand and shaking the fresh curiosity away, she anxiously divulged, “I don’t know where the King is going. He won’t let me use my En past the second floor neow.”

A heavy breath puffed forth from Pouf’s chest. “ _This is not good_.” 

* * *

Each step felt lighter than his last as the King climbed the spiraling stairs of the west tower. He felt an odd sensation in his chest, something akin to sickness but not unpleasant. It was a strange rush, nearly dizzying, and full of expectation and palpable excitement. Yet another mystery to be endured by the emotionally unversed ruler.

‘Did they feed her?’ he wondered; his mind suddenly concerned that the human had perhaps not been fed. No, that was impossible. His orders were clear. She would have been catered to as instructed, and any desires she expressed immediately met. His guards would not dare defy him.

There was enough time to play gungi before he was needed elsewhere. Of that, the King was certain, and surely, that is what the girl would want during this window of waning time. After all, she seemed to genuinely miss their matches whenever they were apart. In truth, the King found that he too shared in that sentiment. 

‘I miss _her_ ,’ he anxiously reflected, the final curve of stairsteps now clearly in full view. It felt so strange to admit that. Missing a _human_. What an absurd feeling, and yet the King was constantly struggling to deny it.

‘Perhaps,’ the King quietly pondered, ‘some of these other humans should be assessed for their intellectual merits instead of physical prowess.’ The thought batted back and forth in his mind. Could these creatures benefit him if they were left unscathed?

He scoffed, ‘No, killing them is necessary, is it not?’ He mulled over the question, his eyes narrowing as he continued his trek. Exterminating or cocooning the lot would probably be the safest solution, and yet the King sensed a bizarre hesitation in himself.

What would the girl think about him if she knew he planned to eradicate her species? Would she fear him? Forgive him? Despite being human, she seemed to care little for her own genus. Perhaps, she could be deemed a chimera ant in spirit and ideals, a congeneric mind woefully born within the unlucky confines of an inferior shell.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he silently sneered, the guest-chamber doors now in plain sight. ‘This matter is simple. _She will accept me, or she will die_.’ He felt his pulse quicken at the thought of killing her, a thick lump threatening to choke his tightened throat. Surely, his future would not include that grim decision, would it? 

“I’m doing _nothing_ wrong,” he softly mumbled, hesitance still hinted in his tone. His hand gripped the doorknob and his heartbeat wildly skipped. _Finally_.

“Dear Leader!” Her voice was almost a squeal, her excitement barely contained by her wide and toothy smile.

“How did you ascertain my identity so quickly?” he questioned back, the corners of his lips attempting to twitch into an amused smile. 

“I know your footsteps!”

“I should know better than to underestimate you,” he chuckled, eagerly closing the distance between them.

Komugi blushed as she felt the Supreme Leader lower himself beside her, game pieces clattering to the ground as his tail pushed the gungi board off to the side. Zealously, his palms met her own, their fingers interlacing as their bodies leaned close. Their movements flowed naturally, and as she felt his tail coil around her waist, Komugi’s glistening, blue eyes began to sob.

The King froze, earnestly trying to assess the cause of her tears. From their first encounter, it had been plainly obvious that the human’s nose was defective, but recently, he had begun to question if her constantly leaking eyes were, too. Surely, such constant and tense tears were not commonplace with humans. 

“Tell me why you cry.”

“I—I wa—was just so s—s—scared you wouldn’t come back!” She wailed even harder, her fingers tightening against his grasp.

“I gave my word, did I not?” He released her other hand. his palm rising to wipe away her tears. “Never question it.”

“I’m s—sorry, Dear Le—Leader!”

Instinctually, the King pulled the petite woman onto his lap, his arms wrapping around her as she shook. No sooner was she in his arms that he silently questioned why he had done such a thing to begin with. Constantly, he found himself performing unexpected acts when in the company of this woman. His self-analysis, regrettably, was _still_ in need of further refinement.

“Is this acceptable?” he deeply cooed, his hand stroking her pale hair as she shook and sobbed against his chest. He felt her nod, the only affirmation he needed before his tail affectionately tightened his grasp. He felt pleased as her tears seemed to ebb in his embrace. 

“Does my absence truly disturb you so?”

“Yes,” she weakly trilled, her voice shaking.

“Tomorrow,” he began, deeply inhaling the lavender scent of her frost-white hair. “I will have my subordinates move your belongings to my chambers. Would you find that agreeable, Komugi?”

She shifted in his arms, her wide, glassy eyes looking up and somehow instinctually connecting with his violet orbs. “You’re so kind to me, Dear Leader. Th—thank you!”

With her cheek caressed in the palm of his large hand, the King leaned down and claimed her lips with his own. That odd rush spread through him, an electrified, sugar-sweet tingle that always left him starving in its absence. 

He pulled away and gazed upon her softly closed eyes, the lashes still slick from recent tears. _Fragile_ , as always. 

“I am not kind, Komugi.”

“Eh?” the words caught her off guard, her thick brows scrunching together in confusion. Taking in a shocked breath, she countered, “Of course you are, Dear Leader! You’re the nicest person alive, I bet!”

The King chuckled at the absurdity, his hand hauntingly passing across the soft length of her slender arm. She shivered, her skin electrifying at his feather-light touch. 

“I’ve committed acts that would prove otherwise.”

Komugi bit her lower lip, her mind obviously lost as she tried to trudge through her muddled thoughts. “I…I don’t care what you’ve done, Dear Leader.” Her eyes filled with resolve. “And you’re doing good things now, right?”

“I don’t know,” he truthfully replied, his hand sliding against her small palm, caressing it softly. “I believe I am.”

“Then, that’s all that matters!”

“...Perhaps,” he hesitantly replied, his sight drifting over to the gungi board beside them. The pieces laid scattered about. He truly had been too forceful with his earlier shove. 

“You would enjoy a game of gungi, would you not?”

“Hai!” Komugi squealed, her eyes suddenly wide and sparkling.

“Very well.” He smirked as she excitedly squirmed in his arms. “I shall gather the board for our match.”

Uncoiling his tail, the King gently relinquished his grasp on the petite woman. He leaned forward and gripped the gungi board, his tail sweeping along the floor in a wide arc, catching the game pieces like fish in a broad, ocean net. 

Komugi bounced happily on her cushion, her fingers immediately rummaging through the pile of pieces the Supreme Leader had scattered atop the board. It took her little time to clearly determine the textures, two piles forming effortlessly before the playful adversaries.

The King watched on, the entire time contemplating how a game could make her so genuinely blissful. It was as though every trial she had ever faced and every pain she had ever suffered vanished the moment she touched one of those tiny chits. She was so pure in her desires and ambitions. How could anyone so easily harm her? 

And yet, Pitou confirmed Komugi would perish if put through the Selection. Furthermore, did he not earlier that same day imagine ending her life if she failed to accept his true destiny and ideals? Was he not also guilty of contemplating this frail creature's destruction? 

“Supreme Leader?”

The King had been distracted. Eyes falling upon her thoughtful expression, he hummed his reply.

“I’m missing a piece.”

The King glanced down at her organized army, each soldier lined up so she could feel and identify the various titles so carefully and expertly embossed. So, he _indeed_ pushed the gungi board a bit too eagerly. 

“I shall find it.”

He stood and began to walk around the perimeter of the room, his eyes darting anywhere he saw a hint of where his target may hide. How far could he have possibly thrown it? His nose scrunched in annoyance as he reached the far corner of the room. Nothing.

Meanwhile, Komugi had begun to crawl about on all fours, diligently searching for the gungi piece through touch alone. She was sure it must be somewhere nearby. She inched towards the center of the room, her knees sliding uncomfortably against the hard stone floor.

A glimmer of white caught the King’s eye. There, nestled against the crook of a chair leg, he sighted his mark. He picked up the lost piece, happy he could return it to Komugi, and finally begin their tactical joust.

“Ouch!”

The King’s eyes darted over to the blonde who now rested in the center of the room, still bent over on her knees. She held one slim hand before her, her expression pained and worried.

“Why did you leave the board? Are you hurt?” He quickly came to her aid, dropping to a kneeling position and firmly grasping the wrist of her affected hand. Her barely slit skin dripped red. 

“Something cut me but I’m—I’m okay, Supreme Leader! Really!”

He glanced to the floor. A small shard of something glossy reflected off the irises of his eyes, the sharp edges stained red. “It appears to be a fragment of pottery,” he observed. “Odd.”

Komugi nearly cried. It was a piece of the chinaware Sir Pouf had so graciously served her delicious meal upon. The very meal she had so clumsily knocked to the ground. She remembered the guard’s words and her breathing staggered in fear. Would Dear Leader _actually_ send her away?

“Did something break?”

Komugi choked down a painful lump in her throat. She wanted to lie but lying to such a kind and amazingly generous man felt shameful. She shook, her mind resolving to tell the truth no matter the consequences. “I…I had an accident and knocked over the stuff on my dinner tray earlier. I—I’m sorry, Supreme Leader! I know I’m a klutz and not very smart and I’m always—”

“It matters not.”

Her watering eyes widened as each of her frantic thoughts tripped over the next. 

“Are—are you sure?” she whispered, her body still trembling. "You're no—not mad?"

The only answer was a faint snicker.

“Here,” he began, his fingers placing the found game piece in the palm of her uninjured hand. “I would imagine it quite difficult to play gungi without your King.”

She slid her thumb over the piece’s surface, tears welling once again while she giggled at the Supreme Leader’s words. “This one is _impossible_ to play without,” she sweetly hummed, her smile spreading wide at the comforting, familiar feel of a gungi piece in her hand.

Komugi gasped; her injured finger suddenly surrounded in wet warmth. “D—Dear Leader?!”

He _never_ should have done that. That is what the King thought as her blood spread like heated honey over his tongue. Savory. Intoxicating, even. With that faint yet unmistakable copper tinge that possessively marked the nectarous liquid as human. His jaw quivered at the taste. How long had it been since he ate? How many meals had he skipped in favor of playing games?

“Um, Dear…Dear Leader?”

Silence.

“Su—Supreme Leader, Sir?”

The seconds silently stretched. 

_'This taste.'_

His slick fangs barely applied force to the trembling digit.

_'Her taste.'_

Tension, thick and suffocating, surrounded Komugi.

' ** _More._** '

“Your Majesty?”

His savage, vacant gaze was still locked in place. Slowly, the King slid the woman’s slim finger from his mouth, immediately aching at the loss. The last hint of her flavor vanished from his tongue, and a newly discovered delicacy was suddenly rendered nothing more than a decadent, delicious mirage. His heart drummed wildly against his chest. For a moment, he swore he could hear the blood racing through her throbbing veins.

“Are…are you okay?”

"I’m famished," he whispered, still dazed and nearly inaudible. The torturous thought slid heavy and thick through his mind.

“Dear Leader?”

Wild, violet eyes finally rose to meet a fearful, glassy blue.

 _Hunger_. That is all the Ant King felt as he reached forward and grasped Komugi's head between his unyielding palms. 

He realized it. That previously unacceptable truth. The moment he safely pulled her finger from his hungry jaws was the moment the King knew he could never eat Komugi. No matter the taste and no matter his starvation, this frail human was one he could not devour. Feasibly, she may even be the _only_ creature immune to his voracious appetite. The realization was shocking.

And yet, while he could never tear apart her meat or suck the marrow from her bones, the King did crave her flesh. Not as sustenance but still in a very primal way, nonetheless. The beast would need a meal, and this woman was the only being who could provide it.

“Komugi,” he began, his low, yearning tone dripping with unsatiated desire, “I _need_ you.”

The gungi piece still clutched tightly within her grasp, Komugi cautiously found his face with her other hand. Eyes wide and awe-struck, she yielded, her palm pulling the ravenous creature forward. Then, after a silence that felt sinfully long, she felt his lips firmly unite with her own. 

Tongue sliding against hers, The King fell within drunken dysequilibrium. Everything blurred around him as he savored the taste of their kiss. His eyes slammed shut. He was falling, and he wantonly savored the jump.

Now, succumbing to his siren’s song, the King’s body crashed amongst waves of undiluted lust, his unapologetic passion eagerly and demandingly pulling the girl forward as the dark waters swallowed him whole. The overwhelming intensity seemed to even shake the earth beneath him as one hand slid against the binding in her hair. He pulled the ribbon free, his fingers snaking through her soft tresses, their kiss intensifying as he began to freely drown in his deep deluge of desire. 

_Gungi would wait.  
_

His mind roared with cataclysmic crashes, carnal waves swirling and slamming against rocky shores. How could it feel like the world was crumbling around him at her mere kiss? Drunken euphoria. 

Komugi’s mouth shot open as she exhaled a bladed breath. A shrill cry rang against the King’s mouth, his mind suddenly focused entirely on the familiar taste coating his tongue. _Blood_.

‘Did I…did I _bite her_?!’ The King’s eyes sprung wide, his palms pulling away to free the woman he had so obviously hurt. _What had he done?_

His eyes flashed and hazed against the rain of gold bursting through the domed ceiling. That lustful fog that clouded his mind lifted and reality jerked him free of his welcomed, watery abyss. Only a millisecond passed before his eyes fell against the girl flailing before him. His breath hitched as he sprang to his haunches, catching her limp, lurching form, and shielding her head with his own body. It took only seconds for the rain of fire to pass, but in those moments time seemed to hold impossibly still and the rumbling world was orchestrated with absolute silence. 

The King's mind fumbled and rushed as he glanced around the room. A suffocating whirlwind of dust swelled around them and pieces of debris crashed within the chaos. The billowing cloud made it too thick to clearly see where each piece had fallen but the sounds of crashing rubble were positively unmistakable. He listened as parts of the crumbling ceiling fell like meteorites to the earth. 

_We're under attack!_

“De—Dear Leader?” Komugi coughed, hot blood sputtering from her mouth. “What’s happen—” 

“Komugi!” The King pulled his body away and looked down at the woman hunched over before him. Her body trembled, a steady stream of scarlet gushing forth from her core. His jaw unhinged at the sight of clearly visible viscera struggling to snake free of her wounded stomach, her pale skin torn and seared asunder. He could smell her flesh burning.

“What’s happening?” she coughed out again, her eyes fearfully wide and yet unable to see her surroundings. Her voice was distant, shock ensnaring her terrified thoughts. “It…it hurts!”

The King pulled the girl into his embrace, desperately turning her body to suppress the bleeding with his wide palm. She was losing so much blood. Too much blood. Dying. _She’s dying_. **_Komugi is dying._**

“Komugi, I’m here,” he desperately pleaded, watching as her frightened eyes began to glaze. “ _Stay awake!_ ”

“Supre..preme…Le…”

_“ **Stay with me, Komugi**!”_

Her eyelids slid shut, time froze, and the King’s anguished aura erupted in a black and gruesome blaze. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support! I'm not going to sugarcoat it. I'm incredibly intimidated when it comes to writing Palace Invasion scenes. I bit off a lot when I chose to write this story, and I'm just now realizing what I signed up for. With that said, we're absolutely doing this. I'm not backing down and we will reach the finish line. Please, just bear with me as I write the final chapters. This is my first story and I'm nervous. I will try my best, though, and I hope it will be entertaining for all of you!
> 
> Thank you so much for the comments and the feedback. Knowing you're enjoying the tale makes me so incredibly happy. Seriously, I can't thank all of you enough. It means so much that you've supported me through this. 
> 
> New chapter updates will be posted on my Twitter (@gungiking951) or you can subscribe to this story and updates will be sent to your email.


	28. Isolating the King

Red and warm. Thick and wet. It dripped like any other human’s, and that burgundy hue was positively unmistakable. Still, this time there was something different in the way it smelled, in the way it ran eagerly between his fingers like a flood pushing through an unstable dam. A crimson that swallowed all other colors and left his world bleak. 

‘ _Wake up!_ ’

Reality could not be so barbarous, so absolutely unfair. Only in nightmares could something like this ever transpire. He was omnipotent, and this _…this_ was impossible. What good was limitless strength if he could not aid Komugi now? Now, when she needed him the most.

The King’s mind flashed to the vision he dreamt last night, and of Komugi, withered and gaunt, her mangled shell dissolving away to reveal cold and lifeless bone. Nightmares were for humans, and yet, this moment felt like a hellish vision, an unfathomable trial. Let this also be a grisly fantasy. Let this agony pass.

‘ _Please, wake up!_ ’

He should have noticed. He would perceive it coming, would he not? How could he not be cognizant of the enemy mounting an attack? What blinded him to such an overt incursion? 

‘ _I did this to you_ ,’ he soundlessly conceded, his mind drowning in what he failed to perceive as panicked grief.

He made a promise. He gave assurance. No injury would befall her, especially when he was by her side. He should have been vigilant. He could have been her shield. What use was all this power if he could not keep her free from all harm? Had he failed her?

‘ _No, **they** did this!_’

Humans. Cowards who recognized their irrefutable inadequacies and led a surprise siege rather than facing him head-on. A multi-pronged strike, no doubt. An astute move, but it would never be enough. His eyes narrowed, disgust bubbling within his gut. Humans and their underhanded stratagems.

Lips snarling, his heart began to bash against his chest, the beat far more violent than the girl’s barely thumping rhythm. Was her heartbeat always so slow? His memory was imprecise. All he knew was he would attempt anything to see her wake up, to have her open those glossy, cerulean eyes that looked like the sky on a cloudless, ideal day. He needed her to smile at him, for this horror to pass. 

‘ _We’ll play gungi. Just wake up for me_.’ 

His bloody palm slid over her limp hand. Her fingers felt so icy in his quaking grasp. ‘ _This cannot be the end._ ’ How long would it take a human to perish? Is this misery how it feels to be powerless? His mind desperately tried to conceive a strategy that would save the woman.

‘ _Stay with me, Komugi._ ’

She would bleed out. Soon. She would flicker and fade, her life nothing more than a bright flash in this world’s desolate darkness. These humans were so simple to harm, their skin easily penetrable like fine parchment, their bones effortlessly shattered like delicate glass. Lives each hanging by whisper-thin threads, and hers was unraveling. Not much longer, and the strand would snap.

‘ _I will grant you **any** desire. **Anything**! Just wake up_.’

He failed to notice his silent begging, his bargaining heart crying out louder than his rational mind. His throat was tight. She just kept bleeding, the gungi piece he had given her lying limp in her other hand. Just another king helpless to wake her. 

‘ ** _Don’t leave me, Komugi_**.”

With a rumbling boom, the central staircase collapsed, and the King’s mind suddenly focused on his turbulent surroundings. The intruders had breached the palace and were now positioned behind him. He could sense them, two elderly men each holding their breath as they watched the King in awe. Were they the ones who did this? The ones who hurt the only being he undoubtedly desired safe. He swallowed a pang of bitter rage.

‘Komugi first.’

These men, gawking at what they would surely deem a grotesque creature caring for one of their own, were not the only beings whose eyes bore into the distressed King. He sensed someone else. Someone perched high within a small, square window. Someone who could help, and someone who, at that moment, was far more imperative to the King than these mere human intruders.

Rising to his feet, the King carefully cradled Komugi in his sturdy arms. The gungi piece fell, rolling into the spill of freshly pooled blood. Komugi’s blood. The white stone of the chit bathed itself in that vivid, scarlet red. Why did the violent hue of her blood bother him so greatly? Why did this stench nearly make him choke? What should be appetizing, he found rancid. She should never smell like this. Like _death_.

Gently supporting her failing body, the King moved towards Pitou, the woman’s thick locks of ivory hair falling away from her listless form. With each step he took, her blood dripped against the stone floor, a splattered trail leading towards her life’s possible end. 

‘ _I don’t understand this feeling_.’

He placed her near the gungi board, which was now cracked and splintered in two, a fate eerily similar to its master. With Komugi’s head gently lowered down upon one of their golden-yellow cushions, he softly surrendered his grasp on the wounded girl, her dove-white tresses scattering wildly around her slim shoulders.

Resting upon his haunches, he paused as the ceiling continued to slowly crumble and fall. He needed to do something before these savage humans hurt her further. He needed to focus, and while he did not fully understand this torrent of emotions, it was unquestionably imperative that he preserve his only treasure truly worth anything. 

And that is what this woman was, her lips so softly parted, her eyes shut and wet lashes glistening in the diffused light. A precious doll made of broken porcelain. She needed to be repaired, lest he loses her forever. 

“Pitou.”

“Y-Yes, Sir?” the guard stuttered out, her mouth agape and eyes wide with fear and almost supernatural awe. Something about the King’s expression made her feel uneasy. It appeared he had disconnected, his usual stoicism returning, his features now steady and collected. His intense and overbearing aura was once again harnessed and masterfully controlled. She felt as though anything could happen and wondered if this moment was about to turn unthinkably violent. 

Yet, with eyes wide and sincere, brimming with pure and genuine need, the King’s gaze locked with Pitou’s. The cat chimera nearly gasped, her heart pounding, her fingers trembling as they tried to cling to the window’s slim frame. What was this look he gave her? Why did it make her head feel so dizzy? As if she were plummeting to the earth in a chaotic whirl?  
  
“Heal Komugi.”

Pitou felt her breath hitch, lip quivering as his expression tunneled deep into her heart. She felt her chest tighten, her body barely able to hold back these strange and powerful feelings. 

“ ** _I’m counting on you_**.”

 _It was too much_. Pitou felt an overwhelming swell of emotion well up from within her core, spilling free from her glassy, saffron eyes. The King needed this. He wanted her help. And most importantly, _her King_ _earnestly desired_ _this human woman_. 

Pitou shook, thick tears continuing to erupt from her eyes, the wetness glistening against her pale flesh. ‘The King _needs me_ to do this! _Only **I** can do this_!’ She felt an overwhelming sense of joy, pride, and fear. All blended together in a startling mix she had never before encountered. She sprang from the window, her mind determined and her claws ready to preserve the human at any cost. 

The King returned his attention to the fallen woman before him, his mind unsettled yet trusting. Pitou would protect her, even if it meant her own death. Of this, there was little doubt. Now, all he had to do was ensure no more harm came to Komugi. To ensure these interlopers were dealt with. Only then would she truly be safe.

He passed his broad fingers along her small face, his thumb pausing to wipe away a stream of blood that had been trickling from her mouth since impact. Her skin felt so soft beneath his touch. Leaving her here, like this, felt nearly impossible.

‘I must go.’

Taking her tiny palm in his, the King surveyed her injuries, memorizing exactly what damage the humans had wrought. How they had so carelessly marred something so frail yet so very important. It was all so pointless. To harm her like this, and still, these humans were fated to lose. 

‘Komugi,’ he thought, his fingers tenderly sliding against the curve of her cheek, ‘You will be safe with Pitou. I promise you I will return. _Please_ , _return to me._ ’

He gently settled her hand back against the cold stone, inhaling deeply as he watched Pitou maneuver into position, ready to do everything she could to save this human. _His_ _human_. 

Those men, the old humans who had been standing behind the King all this time, were mumbling about something. They still held back, neither attacking as their terrifying nemesis so carefully looked after an obviously important human. Although, for what reason she was so precious, they both seemed unsure. 

‘Our battle is inevitable,’ the King reflected, his noble posture reclaimed as he rose to his feet. ‘They are but humans. Even their greatest warriors would fail against evolution’s perfect King.’ 

He stared at the girl one last time, learning the delicate lines of her face in a way he never had before. He needed to remember her here, her eyes lightly shut as if she were just sleeping, waiting for him to rouse her from a tranquil dream. One where she would tell him of newly conceived gungi moves or the sounds of some seemingly otherworldly domain. So long as her sleep was not beleaguered with fear or pain. That is all he asked for, agony being something Komugi never deserved. 

‘We will be reunited.’

“Not here,” the King mumbled, his tone obviously concerned. It was too dangerous to fight there at the palace. Pitou, he knew, would need a safe place to heal Komugi if she were to stand any chance of survival. “Let us go elsewhere.” 

He could feel two sets of human eyes observing his every action, analyzing the King’s intentions and motives. 

Glancing over his shoulder and finally acknowledging his adversaries vis-à-vis, the King spoke, his tone now imperial and commanding, “I believe that a change of location, would be to your benefit, as well.”

The two men stood there as the King made his offer. Why they had not taken the opportunity to attack, was hard to say. Was it out of respect? Were they merely trying to preserve some sort of honor, neither willing to attack from behind while their enemy gently cradled such a weak and helpless woman? The reason was of no value, not to the King at least. His eyes narrowed at the two humans, impatiently awaiting their reply.

“Well,” one of the old humans mumbled, obviously the invasion’s leader, “Yes.” 

The King could sense the man’s hesitation, but he cared little for the reason. It was obvious the attack was meant to separate the King from his guards. If there were no other humans here fighting, Youpi and Pouf would have already rushed to the King’s aid. Their absence was telling.

“Toy Repair: Doctor Blythe.”

Pitou’s unexpected voice startled the two men, their eyes widening in wonderment as the chimera’s puppet manifested in the dim light, the shadow looming like a predatory beast. And in a foolish mistake made by both, they each lowered their guard, their attention abandoning the King for only a mere second. Still, it would have been enough.

‘I will repay you this kindness,’ the Ant King silently reasoned, casually strolling between the two humans. ‘We are now even in this battle.’ 

He heard both humans gasp, obviously realizing their folly. One kindness in exchange for another. Their lives only spared because they waited for Komugi to be safely entrusted to Pitou. 

Now, the King casually strolled onto the west tower’s balcony, his posture regal and expression unreadable. With each footfall, the King focused on the sound of both humans, making sure that they had left with him. That they had left his Komugi.

‘They are too weak. Their fate is already ordained, as is the destiny of all humans. This battle is insignificant.’

The King felt the chill snap of the midnight air, a welcomed sensation after feeling so forlorn with the woman hemorrhaging in his shaking arms. The Palace was in chaos. He glanced down to the courtyard; cocoons scattered from a few cracked and fallen trees. Three battles seemed to be forming, his own included. They used a trident attack. Three-pronged and designed specifically to isolate the King. Still, their play would prove fruitless. There will be no checkmate made against the Chimera King tonight. Of that, he was certain. 

‘My Royal Guards will handle the rest.’

Standing at the edge of the west tower balcony, the King waited to hear the footsteps of his adversaries cease. They seemed to still be maintaining a bit of distance. Obviously, both humans were still unsure of this monster's true power. 

“Take me,” the King calmly began, his tone practically condescending, “I am fully aware that you are trying to accomplish your goals with minimal human casualties. You created this chaos to separate me from my Royal Guards, did you not?”

He turned, his sharpened gaze meeting with the leader of the attack. “I care not. Take me away.”

Turning his back to the humans once more, the King glanced towards the throngs of waiting vermin, all ready to be judged upon his inevitable return. He could sense one of the men, the mustachioed subordinate, readying a technique. There was no malice evident in his intentions. This would simply be a means of transport, it appeared.

‘Komugi, this won’t take long,’ the King silently stated, still fixated on expeditiously returning to her side. 

The human roared, his yell echoing as his Nen burst from his form and began its ascent towards the heavens. It took the form of a giant, golden dragon, its transparent scales glittering in the darkness of the night. 

Grasping onto the creature’s shimmering leg, the King began his journey. He sensed only one of the humans taking a seat atop the glimmering beast. It seemed this battle would be 1 vs 1. A foolish mistake on their part, and a boon for the King. If this altercation truly did end in battle, executing one human instead of two would only make his return to Komugi swifter. 

As the dragon flew towards the South, the King began to question what he should do with these humans. Even killing these, more would surely come. He was not even entirely clear on how many humans existed in this world. Perhaps, it was time for a conversation, and for these pests to at least understand reason. Only through his control, could these inferior creatures ever hope to find their place in a productive, equal society. This structure would be his merciful gift. 

‘One last chance,’ the King silently growled. ‘One last chance to bow to my will.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed this entry. Meruem focused chapters are always my favorite to write. 
> 
> We're coming up on battle scenes, and I told myself I wouldn't hide in fear of writing them. If you've made it this far, you're probably already aware this is my first story and that I'm just winging this as we go along. I know a lot of really amazing writers read this tale so if you have any tips for writing action scenes, please leave me a comment. I never would have gotten this far if it weren't for this fantastic community. Writers like DukeKitty and Lurm have both taught me and encouraged me. I am forever thankful to both of them for their guidance.
> 
> **UPDATE FOR CHAPTER 29: 2/6/21**
> 
> I had a very bad start to 2021 in my personal life. I am still going to continue with this story. It has just been incredibly difficult given my current situation. Please, hang in there with me. I will provide a new chapter as soon as my mind and heart allow me <3

**Author's Note:**

>  **Come see me on Twitter:** [@GungiKing951](https://twitter.com/GungiKing951)
> 
>  **Check out the comic I collaborated on with the amazing artist FrenchUnicorn:** [Puzzling Encounters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25762132)
> 
>  **Read a tale about 1920s human Meruem:** [Playing for Keeps](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26371462)
> 
>  **Are you 18+ and interested in MeruKomu erotica? Find it here:** [A Special Gift](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26281147)
> 
>  **Join the MeruKomu Madness Discord Server:** [Click Here](https://discord.com/invite/PPVe2WU)


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